


shooting for the stars, desperately reaching for something in the dark

by cryptidkidprem



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Eventual Fluff, M/M, Mentions of past abuse and violence, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, but nothing too graphic, everybody hates riko moriyama, if u can handle the extra content and the books themselves u can handle this fic, just expect mentions of canon-typical abuse and violence and stuff, um yeah i honestly have no idea how to tag on this website but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 146,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidkidprem/pseuds/cryptidkidprem
Summary: "He just won't be back in black."A look at Jean's first year with the Trojans, and his slightly rocky path to recovery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> uuuhhhhh okay wow?? this was actually my first time writing fic. i genuinely have no idea if this is any good but. i had a lot of fun writing it so i hope you guys have just as much fun reading it!!!! im sure the concept of jeans first yr with the trojans has been done to death but who cares i love him and i want him to be happy
> 
> i tried to keep this compliant to canon & nora's extra content as much as possible, w/ the exception that in this fic renee and allison Definitely Are attracted to each other (renee is a Big Lesbian idc what nora says) 
> 
> um yeah this fic is pretty tame but there are mentions of the abuse jean dealt with in the nest, as well as some mentions of violence and such. i mean. its tfc so. but generally its never really going to be too graphic. ill leave warnings on the tops of chapters for everything that might be triggering. 
> 
> this first chapter is the last few months of tkm, from the night of kengo's death to a few days after riko dies, from jeans pov. so for this chapter theres some mentions of riko's violence and a few anxiety attacks and such. 
> 
> um okay lets do this thing!!! feel free to come talk 2 me/yell at me/etc on tumblr. im over @ [danwildsofficial](http://danwildsofficial.tumblr.com/)

Jean had accepted a long time ago that he wasn't going to make it out of Edgar Allen alive. One way or another, after spending the last decade of his life living beneath Castle Evermore as property of Riko and Tetsuji, he was certain the only way he’d ever get out of the Nest for good was in a body bag. He’d never had anything outside the Ravens, and there was no way he’d ever get away from Riko.

And then Kengo Moriyama died, and he was almost certain he wouldn’t even make it to see the next morning.

The news of Kengo’s death reached the Nest around midnight. Jean had been there with Riko when Tetsuji made the announcement, and it felt like someone had ripped the floor out from under him. Even before Tetsuji left, he knew there was no way this would end well for him. Riko still thought he'd be able to catch his father's attention somehow, to win his approval by being the best striker- no, best _player_ \- in the world. But now that possibility had been ripped away from him. And then Tetsuji had hammered in one last nail by saying Ichirou had invited _him_ to New York for the funeral, but _excluded_ Riko.

Things had pretty much gone to hell for Jean the moment Tetsuji stepped out the door.

Jean had seen Riko throw temper tantrums before, but this was nothing like that. This wasn’t the bitter jealousy which lead him to shatter Kevin’s hand. This wasn’t his sadistic temper leading his and Neil Josten’s fight at the winter banquet. This was 20 years of crushing inferiority and grief and rejection, and the only way Riko knew how to channel that was through violence. Jean couldn’t really remember the specifics of Riko’s attacks. It was all just a mess of pain and fear and knives that lasted who knew how long, but Jean was sure this time would really be it, this time Riko might actually kill him.

And, maybe if he hadn’t caught a flash of rainbow and a sweet smile at the fall banquet all those months ago he wouldn’t have minded that so much, but with Riko’s temper finally at a breaking point and Jean just an outlet for that furious grief, he found himself clinging on and fighting for the first time in years.

His next real coherent thought came around four in the morning. He was sitting in his room, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting on one arm. The other arm, he realized, was holding his phone to his ear. He didn’t even really remember calling anyone, but the next thing he knew Renee’s voice was filtering through his phone’s speaker.

It took her a while to answer. At first Jean thought she wouldn’t, and a crushing sort of panic found a home in his stomach. But finally, on the sixth ring, she picked up. “Hello?” She said, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Renee,” Jean said, and he hated how his own voice cracked. “Help me.”

Renee went from soft and sleepy to fierce and alert in about a nanosecond. “Jean? What’s going on? What happened?”

“Kengo is dead.” Jean said simply, running his hand through his hair and wincing. Even such a simple movement sent spikes of pain up all over his body, and it hurt too much for him to entirely stifle the pained sound that came out of his mouth.

There was a moment of silence, and Jean had to check to make sure Renee hadn’t hung up. But finally, she said: “I’m on my way. Jean, please try to stay safe until I get there.”

All Jean could do was nod, even though he knew she couldn’t see it, and with that she did hang up.

It was too much to believe she might actually be able to get him out, but it was hard to dismiss her when she sounded as determined as she did. He knew they’d never let him leave, and he tried to convince himself of that so it would hurt less when Renee failed, but he couldn’t stifle the little spark that ignited in his chest at her words.

 

-

 

The next few hours dragged by agonizingly slow, and were punctuated by even more of Riko’s violent outbursts. With Tetsuji off to New York and no one to keep him in line, Jean was sure this would be it for him.

But he hadn’t counted on the actual human miracle that was Renee Walker.

It was just after ten in the morning when Renee burst into Castle Evermore, with the fucking president of the university on her heels and her reporter mother on the phone and all sorts of demands and vague threats and a refusal to leave without Jean. When Andritch finally got into the Nest and saw the state Jean was in, he was pretty keen on complying. It was either that or bring down a firestorm of bad press and probably police scrutiny on his university, so what choice did he have, really?

And so, with fire in her eyes and a hand hooked around his waist to guide him, Renee lead Jean from the nest for what she promised was the last time. (That was too much to hope for, really, but he was so delirious and in so much pain he didn’t argue.) All he could do was let Renee load him into the front seat of her car and watch Castle Evermore disappear into the distance.

 

-

 

The ride from West Virginia to South Carolina passed in a blur. Jean didn’t speak and Renee didn’t push him to. There was nothing really to be said, anyway. When they passed the first sign on the Interstate which declared the next exit to be Palmetto, Renee turned her phone on to make a call. She called ahead to warn someone of her arrival, and had a quick conversation with whoever was on the other end. Jean didn’t pay attention to what she was saying nor who she was speaking to, and she hung up not long after.

It wasn’t until they passed the PSU campus and then the Foxhole Court itself that Jean really realized what the hell had just happened. His entire body went rigid and he clenched his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms until it hurt. When he spoke, his voice sounded hollow and hoarse. “I should go back.”

Renee didn’t take her eyes off the road, but her voice was fierce when she responded. “Absolutely not.”

“If I make them come to get me it will be… Bad.”

“If they try to take you back, we won't let them,” Renee told him resolutely. Like she could ever stand between him and Riko.

He let it drop, but only because he didn’t have the energy to argue. He barely had the energy to form complete sentences at the moment. Renee waited a beat to see if he had anything else to add, and when he didn’t she changed the subject. “We’re almost to Abby’s. I can stay with you a for while but I have to get back to the rest of the Foxes eventually. I kind of took Andrew’s car and left them in the mountains.”

Jean didn’t have anything to say to that, but before long they were pulling up outside of an unfamiliar house not too far from Palmetto State. There were two cars in the drive already so Renee parked on the curb. “Oh, Coach is here, too,” she commented, glancing over at Jean. Walking was a chore, and Jean had to lean on Renee to get up the driveway to the front door of the house. The door opened almost instantly after Renee knocked, and the Foxes’ nurse and coach were both standing in the doorway when it opened. “Hello Coach, hi Abby.” Renee greeted. The nurse gave a polite greeting in return, but both her and the coaches eyes were locked on Jean.

“Shit,” the coach hissed when he saw Jean. He looked at Renee. “It hasn’t even been a week since Neil was fucking kidnapped, and now this? You kids are going to send me to an early grave.”

Renee smiled sadly, and the nurse- Abby- didn’t even bother acknowledging that. “Bring him in,” she instructed Renee, gesturing with her hands and leading Renee and Jean into the house. When she looked at Jean she had some look in her eye that he couldn’t place. Shock, most likely. Jean silently thought that after spending years with the Foxes she should be used to hopeless bloody messes turning up on her doorstep. Although, maybe that was something decent people never got used to. (He also still thought he shouldn’t fucking be here, but there wasn’t much he could do about that right now.)

Abby and Renee took him down a hall to a small bedroom, and Abby pursed her lips into a thin line before she got to work patching him up. Renee hovered nearby, but she didn’t interfere. Abby actually looked increasingly distressed throughout the whole process, her face colored with misplaced concern. He wasn’t one of her charges, she shouldn’t gave a damn about him. Not to mention, after the role he played in what happened to Josten over winter break, she should probably actively despise him. After a deep sigh, Abby looked back at the coach and Renee. “I still think we should take him to a hospital.“

Jean hadn’t been interested in speaking to Abby or Coach Wymack and had successfully avoided it up until now, but that got his attention. “No,” he insisted. Abby shot him a look, so he repeated himself. “No. You can’t.”

“He’s right,” Wymack said from the doorway. “We can’t. Not with the Moriyamas involved. We just have to do what we can for him here.”

Abby took a deep breath. “And you think you’re the one these kids are sending to an early grave,” she muttered, getting back to the matter at hand.

Jean needed stitches on his face, chest, and back. That was nothing new to him. He’d received 266 stitches during his stay at Evermore, and a few more wasn’t anything to write home about. The broken ribs weren't new either. He'd broken three the last time Riko shoved him down the stairs. But they were incredibly inconvenient and uncomfortable- it hurt just to breathe, and it didn’t help that Riko had also seen fit to cut deep lines in the skin just above them. It took Abby more than an hour to get through with him. Renee stayed the entire time, and Abby offered to let her stay at the house overnight. She offered Renee one of the spare bedrooms, but Renee took the couch instead. It was probably lucky she did, too.

Moving at all sent waves of fresh pain shooting through his body. Just getting out of bed hurt in a thousand different ways. But that didn’t matter to him. He’d been forced to play in similar conditions back at Evermore. He had to clench his teeth to keep from making any noise as he forced himself out of bed and down the hall. He thought he'd managed it, but apparently he hadn't. He was halfway to the front door when a soft hand closed around his forearm. “What are you doing, Jean?”

Jean stiffened. “Let me go, Renee,” was all he said in response.

“What are you planning to do, walk back to West Virginia? You are not going back there, Jean.” Renee insisted.

Jean grit his teeth and shook his head. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t— you don’t understand.” He closed his eyes and tried to pull his arm free, but Renee seemed ready to bodily keep him there if need be. “This is what they do to me for just existing. What do you think will happen now that I’ve left?”

“I think that as long as you’re here Riko can’t do a thing to you.” Jean wanted to disagree. Riko was everywhere. He could do whatever he damn well pleased, regardless of how far from the Nest Jean was. It was dark in the hallway, but Jean could still feel Renee staring at him. “Come on, Jean. Go back to bed.”

Jean finally surrendered, partly because no matter how much he knew he should be on his way back to Evermore _right the fuck now_ , there was also a part of him that desperately wanted out. The part of him that looked up at the sky every time he got the chance to leave the Nest, the part of him that was left literally speechless when he saw a girl with bright hair and a soft smile at the fall banquet. The part of him that still craved the light after being trapped in darkness for years. That part of him desperately wanted to believe that being here would mean being out of Riko’s grasp.

He didn’t sleep that night, and the next morning he made another escape attempt, but again, Renee stopped him. This time, she had Abby to help her, and the two women eventually got him back into bed. Renee stayed with him until she had to get back to the rest of the Foxes, and while she was there she kept insisting that they would work something out, some way for Jean to escape Riko for good. Eventually she convinced Jean to stick around, at least until she got back from vacation, and they could figure this out.

 

-

 

Ravens didn’t know how to be alone. They were trained to be a part of a whole and had the idea that they were nothing on their own drilled in their heads from their first night in the Nest. Forbidden from going anywhere without another member of the team until that hive mentality eventually became deeply and dangerously embedded in their minds, Ravens were _never_ alone.

But Jean was alone right now. He hadn’t quite registered it until Renee left to go meet the rest of the Foxes. If Jean was being honest, it still hadn’t fully registered that he wasn’t still at Edgar Allen. He felt like if he blinked he’d wake up and be staring at the low, black ceiling of his room in the Nest, another Raven across the room. He wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse that time kept stretching on, and so far he was still in Abby Winfield’s spare bedroom in South Carolina. But he did know that being alone didn’t make things any better. He didn’t know what to do with himself outside of the Ravens. He didn’t have anything else. All he knew how to be was a Raven, was Riko’s property. He was a something, not a someone. He was sure he could never be anything else.

But something stopped him. Maybe he did have… something outside of the Nest. He’d been the one to call Renee for help, hadn’t he? In the wake of Riko’s violence, he’d finally had enough and he’d reached out for a lifeline. He looked up at the sun flowing in around the closed blinds. _Just let her help you_ , he thought to himself, and shut his eyes.

 

-

 

When Renee returned, she brought Kevin with her, looking deathly pale and staring at the wall or the floor and entirely avoiding looking at Jean as much as he could. Renee crossed the room to sit on the foot of the bed, and Kevin took a seat in the chair by the window. Jean had never seen Kevin looking so uncomfortable, so he looked to Renee instead. She offered one of her sweet smiles. “How are you feeling?” She asked kindly.

“Like shit, but what else is new?” Jean said truthfully. Kevin visibly stiffened in his peripheral vision. Renee kept smiling, but there was a glimmer of that ferocity he’d seen when she first took him from the Nest.

She probably would’ve said something else, but Kevin finally steeled himself enough to speak up. “Jean, we need to talk about… What you’re going to do now.” The conversation that followed was awkward as all hell and by the end of it Jean wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit Kevin or have a panic attack or what, but Renee and Kevin eventually managed to talk Jean into sticking around, at least until he was healed up enough to figure out his own path. Renee told him her foster mother was leaning hard on Andritch and Edgar Allen, and a full-on investigation had been opened up on the Nest and the violence Tetsuji permitted on his team. She also said, because of that, it looked like the school would be willing to release him from his contract and let him transfer to another team. Jean still thought it was too much to hope for, but he agreed to spite himself.

 

-

 

He woke up the next morning to a loud knock on the bedroom door, and then before he knew it Neil fucking Josten was barging in, followed by Kevin, while the Foxes’ goalkeeper, Andrew Minyard, stopped in the doorway to watch them. Jean tried to sit up but gave it up as a bad job when he realized how much everything still hurt. Whatever. He hoped Neil wouldn’t be sticking around for long, anyway.

“Hello, Jean,” Neil said.

“Go away,” Jean said venomously. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Of course Neil didn’t care. The damn idiot child wasn’t about to let anyone or anything stop him from running his smart mouth whenever he damn well pleased. “But you’ll listen,” he said, “because I just told Ichirou where you are.”

That got his attention. Neil was right, Jean would definitely listen to whatever had brought the new Lord of the Moriyama empire to see this idiotic 19-year-old. Neil sat at the edge of the mattress, and Kevin took up a post beside Jean. After a quick glance back at Minyard, Neil began. “Ichirou is tying up loose ends. He says he’s cleaning up and he came to see me, personally, because of who my father was to him. He gave me a chance to plead our cases and buy our freedom.” He paused for a second, looking between Kevin and Jean. “He’s giving us a chance to earn our keep. All three of us have to give the Moriyamas eighty percent of our earnings until we retire. If we don’t make the cut and go pro after graduation, he will get rid of us. But for now, he’s letting us live.” Neil had an odd expression on his face. He looked almost happy. “It’s not a pardon, and it’s not really freedom, but it’s protection.” Protection. Fuck. “We’re assets for the main family now,” Neil continued, taking the world out from under Jean and Kevin’s feet. “The King’s lost all his men and there’s nothing he can do about it without crossing his brother.” And then he had the fucking audacity to say, “we’re safe— for good.”

Jean didn’t even try to stifle the sound he made as he buried his face in his hands and tried to process the bomb Neil had just dropped. Neil waited a beat to see if either former Raven had anything to say, and when neither of them did he left with Minyard, shutting the door behind him.

Neither Kevin or Jean seemed to be able to speak for some time after that. _It’s not really freedom, but it’s protection._ Jean kept playing those words in his mind, over and over. _We’re safe— for good._

Safe. Safe from Riko, safe from the Ravens, and from Tetsuji, and the Nest.

What a concept.

All he had to do was play Exy and he’d never have to go back to Evermore again. Or, if he did ever go back, it would be wearing different colors and playing for a different team. That thought alone was almost enough to paralyze him, so he pushed it aside for now. But that did lead him to an important question: where the fuck was he going to play?

“I will not play with you and your pathetic team,” Jean announced, because even though he was sure they both already knew it, he needed to say it anyway. His voice sounded raw and ragged even to his own ears.

Kevin shifted beside him. He let the silence stretch out, until he finally took a shaky breath and nodded. “I know.”

The room descended back into silence after that. Neither of them had any idea what to say after having their entire world rocked, and honestly neither of them knew what to say to each other in general anymore. Jean finally lowered his hands and risked a look up at Kevin. Kevin was sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, and his arms wrapped around his legs. He was staring off into space with unfocused eyes, but eventually he seemed to notice the attention and turned his haunted stare at Jean. He opened his mouth, rethought whatever he was about to say, and closed it again. It took him a few minutes to try again. “Do you think we’re really safe?”

Jean huffed. He was tempted to completely ignore the question, but Kevin sounded so pathetically lost he finally answered. “‘Safe’ isn’t exactly a word I would apply to any situation involving the Moriyamas,” he said dryly. He looked up at the ceiling, still a bit dazzled that it wasn’t low and black and suffocating. He was still convinced every time he blinked that he’d open his eyes and be right back _there_. “But maybe this is as close as we’re going to get.”

 

-

 

Abby Winfield was a nice enough woman. Jean stayed with her at her house in Palmetto because he had nowhere else to go, and she tried her hardest to make him feel welcome. But God help her Jean did not make it easy. He stayed holed up in the bedroom, partially because he was still in bad enough shape that he only moved when absolutely necessary, and partially because he couldn’t quite find it in him to face the world.

Renee came by occasionally, but she was busy with practices and classes and her team, so her visits were usually short. Kevin hadn’t come back since the day Neil bought their safety, and Jean was quite relieved by that fact. On the list of people Jean least wanted to see in the world, Kevin was near the top. The only people who came above him all had the last name Moriyama. Wymack came by the house a few times, but he only spoke to Jean once, to ask him what he was planning to do. He offered Jean a place on the Fox line, but Jean adamantly declined his offer. He said he’d figure something out, and Wymack accepted that. In truth Jean had no idea how he’d figure anything out. He never thought he’d _exist_ outside of the Ravens.

Whenever he let his mind wonder it still struck him numb that he was _alone_. He didn’t know how to function as an individual anymore after being part of a team, of a pair, of a hive mind, for so long. Just as disconcerting as being alone was the sunlight which filtered in through the slats of the blinds all day long, and how damn _colorful_ the house was. He wasn’t sure if that light calmed him or made him feel worse. Just in general he wasn’t sure what he was feeling these days.

On Saturday, one of the last people Jean expected to see in Palmetto came by the house. Theodora Muldani stormed into the bedroom with Kevin on her heels. She was angry and ferocious and more than a little intimidating, just like she was on the court. Kevin, in contrast, looked like a lost child.

Jean honest to God almost laughed when he found out what Kevin had said in his recent post-game interview. Whether that was from genuine amusement or some sort of horrified panic, he couldn’t quite decide. Both, perhaps. He wanted to make a snide remark about Josten rubbing off on him, but stifled himself. The pair of them stayed for longer than Jean would’ve liked, Thea standing in the room with her arms crossed and demanding explanations. By the time they left Jean felt more exhausted than he had since the night Renee stole him from Evermore.

As they were leaving, Kevin stopped in the doorway. Thea looked expectantly back at him when she realized he wasn’t moving, but Kevin told her to give him a minute. Thea walked out of the room, and Kevin turned back to Jean and perched at the very edge of the mattress. “So I have an idea,” he began. Jean arched his eyebrow and gestured for Kevin to continue. “It’s about where you’re going to play next year. I mean, it’s not for sure, but I was going to talk to Jeremy when we play them in two weeks—“

Jean realized what he was saying and cut him off with a derisive snort. “Jeremy?" Jean deadpanned. " _Jeremy Knox_?” He raised his eyebrows incredulously. “You want me to play for _USC_?” Kevin nodded, and Jean crossed his arms. “Kevin, I know you have a hard-on for anything red and gold, but be realistic. The Trojans practically bleed sunshine and sparkles. They are not going to want a _Raven_ on their lineup.”

“You don’t know that.” Kevin said, but he didn’t sound so confident. “They’re good people. And you’re the best backliner in NCAA Exy, they’d be lucky to have you.”

Jean wasn’t about to argue with that. He knew he was a good player. He also couldn’t argue about the Trojans being good people, which was why he was so dubious about this whole thing. The Trojans were, however, the number two team in the nation, and if his life depended on going pro after graduation, they were probably his best option. He sighed, and lifted his shoulders in a weak shrug. “I suppose,” he said in ascent.

Kevin nodded, looking oddly calm. “Good.” He stood up, ready to head after Thea. “I'll speak with Jeremy when we’re in California.”

“I’ll wait with baited breath,” Jean replied dryly.

 

-

 

As it turned out, Jean actually did find himself anxiously anticipating Kevin’s news about the Trojans. Of course, he was anxious about most things these days. Two weeks after their initial conversation, Jean found himself on Abby’s couch watching the Trojan-Fox match. With Abby and the rest of the Foxes on the other side of the country, Jean had the entire house to himself. It wasn’t for the first time, but with the idea of a possible new team hanging over his head tonight, Jean couldn’t stamp out his nerves. Until now the idea of playing for someone besides the Ravens had been abstract, something he could push aside and ignore. But now there was a concrete plan in motion, and after tonight he'd know if he would be playing for his old teams' fierce rivals. You couldn’t get farther from the Ravens than Southern California’s mercilessly peppy, sunshine-y team.

The game was rather draining to watch. The first half was impressive; the Trojans held their own and outscored the Foxes, to spite their (idiotic) move to only use nine players. But then when both teams came back after half time, the Foxes scored nine goals and beat the Trojans by four points. Jean found himself a bit disappointed. A team that could be beaten so thoroughly by the Foxes fractured mess couldn’t be worth his time. But he had to consider the fact that they had held their own, and the Foxes had been playing that way all year while this was the Trojans first time using those numbers.

And of-fucking-course, during the post-game interviews, all the Trojans could talk about was how incredible the game had been, and how eager they were to do it again next year.

Jean shut the TV off and scrubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t bother to turn any of the lights in the house off as he made his way back to the bedroom he’d been occupying. He was still sore all over, but after a few weeks being out of the Nest, he was beginning to recover. In the Nest, he’d never gone so long without a fresh dose of abuse. It was odd actually having time to heal.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up to his phone chiming at him with a text from Kevin: " _Jeremy’s on board. Coach Rhemann is going to contact Edgar Allen about transferring your contract._ "

Jean felt like someone had smacked him across the face. He dropped his phone back on the bedside table and rolled over. He’d deal with the complicated rush of emotions that washed over him tomorrow.

 

-

 

By now, the university’s investigation into the Raven’s Nest was in full swing. The Ravens were fighting off wave after wave of negative press, and even Tetsuji was distancing himself from the mess his team was becoming. With such a shitstorm falling on their heads, and with Jean at the center of a good deal of it (Tetsuji had finally made an official statement that didn’t seem to satisfy anyone as to why Jean wasn’t on the line anymore. All he’d said was that Jean had suffered a sprain during practice), they’d been quite eager to let Jean out of his contract. By the time the Ravens played the Trojans the following week, Jean had been enduring calls from both USC and Edgar Allen alike. Even Wymack got caught up in it somehow, mainly acting as middleman for all the documents both schools faxed over for Jean.

It all became official on Thursday, the day before the Raven-Trojan semifinal match. Jean was eating breakfast in Abby’s kitchen, while the nurse busied herself elsewhere in the house, when someone gave a cursory knock before just opening the front door. (Jean would never get over how often Abby just left her door unlocked. It still unnerved him, but the only people who ever took advantage of it were various Foxes, so he was learning to ignore it.)

Jean didn’t even bother to get up and investigate. He knew whoever had shown up was here for Abby. Instead he sunk lower into his chair and hoped to be ignored completely. Even after almost a month here, he still had very little energy to deal with… Anyone, really, besides Renee and _sometimes_ Abby.

He heard Coach Wymack’s gruff voice calling for Abby, and he heard her response as she came out to the front hall to meet him. He ignored them until he heard his own name from Wymack’s mouth.

“Where’s Jean?” Wymack asked Abby.

“I think he’s in the kitchen right now,” Abby responded.

Jean froze, looking up in time to see Abby leading the Foxes coach into the kitchen. Wymack didn’t bother with a greeting, and instead he walked over to the table and plopped a file down in front of Jean. “For you,” he said. “Sign this.”

Jean just stared at the folder in front of him. He could figure out what it was easily enough, but his mind still had a bit of a rough time processing it. Wymack didn’t seem to have time for his broody bullshit at the moment, so he pushed the folder closer. “Need a pen?”

Jean didn’t respond, but Wymack produced a pen from his pocket anyway and set it on top of the file.

It was stupid, that a piece of paper should have such an effect on him, but it was still dizzying and more than a little surreal when he opened the folder and saw _University of Southern California_ printed atop the first page. He took a breath and hated how his hand shook.

“C’mon, kid,” Wymack said. “The sooner you sign, the sooner I can get this faxed over to Rhemann and be done with all of this.”

Abby whacked him on the shoulder, muttering something about _tact_ , but Jean barely heard either of them. He numbly scratched his name across the contract before he could lose his nerve. He closed the folder and slid it across the table, where Wymack snatched it up. “Great. Uh, congrats,” he said, tucking the papers under his arm and turning to Abby. “I gotta go. Busy day. You good here?”

Abby nodded. “We’ll be fine,” she told him, and walked him out, leaving Jean alone again. He stared down at his unfinished breakfast, but he’d lost his appetite. _I’m never going back to the Nest_ , he thought to himself, unsure if he actually believed it, _I’m not a Raven anymore_.

 

-

 

Renee came over to see him that afternoon, between classes and the Foxes afternoon practice. The two of them were sitting across from each other on opposite ends of the bed. He told her about the contract, and she smiled one of her trademark honey-sweet smiles and told him she was happy for him. “I think this will be good for you,” she said. “The Trojans might be exactly what you need. They are an excellent team, and they’re about as different from the Ravens as you can get.”

Jean was thinking the same thing, but he didn’t know how that made him feel. All he’d been allowed to be for the past decade of his life was a Raven, was _number three_ , and he didn’t know how to _be_ anything else. He nodded at Renee, but didn’t say anything. As it happened, he was saved from needing to say anything when his phone started buzzing from where it sat on his bedside table. Jean didn’t really want to deal with anyone, but when he saw the name lighting up the screen he scowled. “It’s Jeremy Knox,” he told Renee. “I should get this. Sorry.”

Renee nodded, still smiling. “It is alright. I’ll go see Abby and let you guys talk.” She got up from the bed and gently shut his bedroom door behind her after she left.

Jean took a deep breath and picked up. “Hello?”

“Jean, hey!” Jean could practically hear the grin in his voice and idly wondered if Jeremy was even capable of anything besides ridiculous cheerfulness. “First things first,” Jeremy continued, without missing a beat, “coach said he got your contract this morning, so, welcome to the Trojans! We’re psyched to have you.”

Jean’s natural instinct was to be rude and distant, but he figured he should at least make an effort with the captain of his new team. These were the fucking Trojans, their good spirit tended to bleed out and infect those around them in a way that made even Jean Moreau feel guilty being rude to them. “Thank you,” he said, albeit a bit awkwardly. “I’m. Um. Excited to be a part of the team.”

Jeremy laughed genially. “Awesome, I’m glad to hear it, dude.” He took on a more serious tone, but he still sounded happier than Jean thought he should. “So, okay, I actually need to discuss some things with you. Well, two things. First: your number. It’s, uh, unavailable. Three is already taken on our lineup, so I just wanted to check in with you and see what you wanted to do about that.”

Jean lifted his free hand to touch the spot on his cheek where he knew the number was stamped on his face. His heart beat a little faster at the prospect of being something besides number three. “Just give me whatever number is available.”

“Alright, great,” Jeremy said. “How do you feel about…” There was a brief pause, but Jeremy was back in a second. “Number nine?”

“That’s fine.” Jean said.

“Perfect! Okay, next: your summer plans. We’re just trying to sort out travel arrangements and all that jazz. Kevin says you’re out for the rest of the season, yeah?” Jean hummed in affirmation and Jeremy continued. “He also says you were in… pretty bad shape when you first showed up in South Carolina. I don’t know when you’ll be up to traveling, but… What’re you thinking about doing? Are you going to stay in Palmetto for the summer?”

“Honestly? If I could get out of here today I would.” Jean admitted, sounding a lot more bitter than he had intended. So much for good first impressions. “I’d like to… get out there as soon as possible.”

There was a brief pause, but Jeremy continued. “Oh, okay. Well, I mean, you’ll probably have to stick around at least until the school year ends because things are, you know, pretty hectic over here with games and finals and everything, and the dorms won’t reopen until summer practices start up in June. But… Hmm. Hang on a sec, okay?”

“Sure,” Jean said.

Jean figured Jeremy had covered the speaker of his phone with his hand, because he heard muffled voices on the other end of the line. Jean waited while Jeremy babbled away to someone else. Jeremy’s conversation lasted almost five minutes, but he finally came back on the line with a cheery, “hey! Yikes, sorry. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging like that.”

“It’s fine,” Jean said, because on the list of shit that had happened to him in his life having to wait a couple minutes on hold didn’t even come close to troubling him.

“So, okay, Coach thinks he can swing it with the university and let us back into the dorms a couple weeks early. He thinks since you haven’t been able to play for the past few weeks he can get you out here early for some extra practice. That might take a bit to sort out, but I’ll keep in touch and keep you updated, if that’s cool?”

Jean blinked. “Sounds good,” he said.

“Awesome!” Jeremy chirped, and then added, “Oh, and hey, one more thing, actually. Since you’re officially a Trojan now and your contract’s all sorted, we’re going to break the news that you’ve transferred. Coach wants to do it tomorrow after our game against the Ravens.” Jeremy sounded almost apprehensive, but he perked up again before adding, “just, you know, wanted to give you a heads up and make sure that’s cool.”

Jean nodded, and then realized Jeremy couldn’t see him. “Go for it,” he said.

“Alright. Hey, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Goodbye.”

“Bye!”

Jean hung up and tossed his phone to the other side of the bed, where it bounced off and landed on the floor. He left the room to find Renee, afraid of the anxious pit in his stomach that was already starting to form.

 

-

 

Jean found himself out on Abby’s couch the next night to watch the Raven-Trojan match on her TV. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping it together, but not even five minutes into the match Jean realized he was digging his fingernails into his palms hard enough to leave marks. He’d thought of asking Renee to come and watch with him, but he figured should be able to handle a fucking Exy game on ESPN2.

For a while there, Jean thought the Trojans might actually win and it was dizzying. They were back to playing their full lineup against the Ravens, and everyone went as hard as they could against their long-time rivals. In the end, though, it wasn’t enough. The Ravens won, although it was only by one goal. No one had come that close to beating them before.

Reporters caught Jeremy Knox as he was leaving the court, and Jean wasn’t surprised that he was grinning. Only a Trojan could look so happy after playing a game against the Ravens. To spite the fact that his team had just been eliminated from championships, Jeremy said he didn’t have any regrets. He went on and on about how good the game had been and how much he appreciated the challenge. When the reporters switched to the topic of how close they’d come to a win, Jeremy perked up instantly.

“We almost had it, right?” He said, grinning like mad. “I don’t think anyone was expecting us to get that close.” That was for sure. Jean was still a little flabbergasted at how close they’d come. “It feels really different out there without Kevin and Jean on the line.”

One of the reporters latched on to that response and came back with, “worst time of the year for someone to be injured. Rumor has it Jean won’t make it back in time for finals.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “I spoke to Jean earlier this week.” He knew it would come up, but Jean’s heart still skipped a beat. “He’s definitely done for the year, but he’ll be back in the fall.” There was a briefest of pauses, but Jeremy still looked excited. “He just won’t be back in black.”

It was almost like Jean himself was hearing it for the first time. He’d known this was coming, had signed the damn contract himself, but it still sent him reeling. On the screen, Jeremy just kept grinning his toothy grin and didn’t miss a beat. “Yesterday he faxed over the last of the paperwork we needed to make this thing official, so I’m allowed to tell you: he’s transferring to USC for his senior year.”

The reporters seemed just as shocked as Jean still felt. “Let me make sure I heard you correctly,” she said, “Jean Moreau is leaving Edgar Allen for USC?”

 _Leaving Edgar Allen_. Fuck.

“We ordered his gear this morning,” Jeremy confirmed. “We’ll have to get him some sun this summer, though! He’s a little pale to pull off red and gold right now.” And then he laughed, genial and good-natured, and Jean thought for what had to be the millionth time that this was all some very vivid dream. Jeremy wasn’t done, and he kept going before the reporters could butt in again. “Unfortunately, his number was already taken, but Jean said we can reassign him to whatever’s open. I’ll let him tell you what his new one is going to be.”

“Can you tell us why he’s transferring?” Another reporter shot at him.

Thankfully, all Jeremy said was, “I can’t get into the details because it’s not my place to tell his personal business,” and then he deflected easily to a safer topic. “But I can say we’re excited to have him. I think we have a lot to learn from each other. Next year is going to be amazing. We’re going to see a lot of changes across the board. We’ve all got to take another look at what we bring to the court.”

The reporters still seemed stunned by the news, but they diverted their questions away from Jean and Edgar Allen after that, so Jean stopped listening, and turned off the television when the reporters finally left Jeremy alone and moved on to Rhemann and the Trojan’s three other coaches.

Jean pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his hands, letting out a deep, shaky breath. Now that it was out there in the world, it somehow felt more and less real simultaneously. He wondered if this whole thing would ever stop feeling like a dream, and then subsequently he wondered if he’d ever decide if this was a good dream or a bad one.

 

-

 

The next two weeks were uneventful, but still managed to grate on Jean’s nerves. Renee was busy with the Foxes as they prepped for their game against the Ravens, and Jean was getting ready for his impending transfer. Jeremy called back about a week after he announced the transfer, telling him Coach Rhemann had managed to swing it so Jean could stay in the dorms over the summer, which meant he could fly out to California as soon as USC’s school year ended. Later that day Jean’s itinerary was faxed over, confirming he had a direct flight to LAX out of Upstate Regional Airport scheduled for 3:30 PM the Monday after the school year was set to end. Jean wasn’t sure if he was glad to be getting out of South Carolina or terrified of what was waiting for him in California.

He spent almost all of his time in Abby’s spare bedroom, an exception being the Friday before he was supposed to depart for USC. For the third time Jean found himself out on Abby’s couch to watch an Exy match. It was pointless and stupid to watch the Edger Allen-PSU match, Jean knew what the outcome would be and didn’t think it would make him feel any better, but he still found himself flipping through sports stations until he found one covering the championship game. The game had already started when Jean found the proper station, and from the looks of it both teams were going as hard as they knew how right out of the gate. By halftime the Ravens had seven goals against the Foxes three.

Jean shouldn’t have been surprised. The Foxes were a pathetic know-nothing team from a school with no idea how to run an Exy program, but interacting with Foxes almost exclusively and being around Renee so much these past few months had sort of implanted the idea in Jean’s head that they had a chance. When the half time break was over, the announcers nearly had a fit when they observed Kevin was suddenly playing left-handed. _Idiot_. The Foxes were getting desperate.

Their desperation became more apparent when it was announced _Neil Josten_ would be subbing in as a backliner 17 minutes into the second half. Jean remembered playing with Neil on the defense line. Riko and the other Raven strikers would wipe the floor with him.

Except that didn’t happen, and Jean watched as Neil intercepted and blocked Riko at every chance he got. He tripped him up and pushed the Raven offense further and further down the court, and with Boyd playing beside him and Minyard in goal no one scored for a good ten minutes. Jean wished Neil had played that well over winter break at Evermore. It would’ve saved them both a lot of pain and trouble.

Things had already been violent, but when the Foxes started rallying things got downright nasty. Jean took a silent moment to be grateful he wasn’t there. Riko would _not_ be pleased with the defense line tonight. With five minutes left the two teams were tied, and Jean thought he was definitely hallucinating. Even USC, the number two team in the nation, had lost to the Ravens. There was no way the Foxes could win.

 _Except_.

Jean watched Kevin, down by the Raven’s goal, still going at it with everything he had. With 10 seconds left Kevin finally got around his backliner mark and rushed for the goal, and with _two fucking seconds_ left on the clock, he slammed the ball against the goal to score one last Fox point. Jean turned off the TV the second the final buzzer sounded on a _Fox_ win. If Jean thought he had been relieved to be out of Riko’s reach earlier, his body felt weak with it now. He could only imagine what Riko would’ve done to him if he’d let Kevin take that last impossible shot and score the goal which ended the Raven's impeccable record.

Jean felt like a rubber band stretched tight finally snapping. The Ravens were unbeatable. They were _untouchable_.

… Except they weren’t.

If the _Foxes_ , of all teams, could topple them from their throne, if Kevin Day could walk onto that court with a new tattoo, playing with his left hand, and show up Riko, maybe…

Maybe Jean had a chance after all.

It was all too much, and Jean went down the hall to his room and collapsed on the bed. He wasn’t tired, but he tried to force his mind to shut the hell up for the night.

 

-

 

Jean didn’t sleep for hours and when he did it was fitful and restless and he gave up trying when the sun rose. The next day, Jean opened the blinds all the way and sat with his legs crossed on the floor in front of the window. He let the sunlight seep into his skin and looked at the sky through the glass panes. Could he really be _free_?

 

-

 

Abby didn’t come home until Sunday, and when she did she brought Renee with her. Abby looked exhausted. Renee looked like she was trying to put on a brave face, but she almost seemed more exhausted than Abby. Jean would’ve chalked it up to the long drive and emotional exhaustion of taking championships from the Ravens, except Renee closed the door behind her and sat down next to Jean on the bed.

“How was the game?” Jean asked. He knew how it went, but really he just wanted to make sure Renee was alright.

Renee smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It was good. It went very well, actually. We won.”

“I know,” Jean admitted. “I watched it.”

Renee’s eyebrows rose up, and her smile got a little warmer. “Kevin’s last shot was incredible, wasn’t it?”

Jean shivered a little. “Riko won’t be taking the loss well.”

Renee’s smile faded instantly. “Jean…” She began. “There’s actually something you need to know… About Riko.”

A million and one worst-case scenarios raced through his head, most of them involving him returning to Evermore for some reason or other. He stared at Renee, waiting for her to elaborate, and when she did it was the last thing Jean expected. “Riko’s dead, Jean.”

Jean was positive the world had literally fallen away from him, and he had to grip his hands in the sheets to remind himself he it hadn’t. “What?” He choked out.

“The official story is that it was suicide, and we all have to go along with that, should anyone ask. After the Ravens lost and Andrew shattered his arm, it seems believable.” Renee sighed. “But it was Ichirou. He was at the game on Friday, and he executed Riko around three in the morning.”

It felt like something broke inside of him. The sun still streaming in through the open window felt one thousand times brighter and harsher on his skin. He wasn’t aware he’d stopped breathing until Renee’s voice telling him to _breathe_ brought him back to reality. He didn’t know how to deal with this, and this wasn’t something he ever thought he’d _have_ to deal with. Riko was the one who was going to survive. Jean never thought he’d make it passed graduation, but Riko was always going to be a star.

Except now it was… the other way around. Jean was free, free from Evermore and the Nest and Tetsuji, free from _Riko_ , and Riko was dead. _Riko was dead._

 

-

 

The rest of the day passed in a sick sort of blur, and Jean was hardly aware of anything. Everything settled into numbness, and before he knew it Abby was knocking on the door and offering him a ride to the airport.

In a way, Jean was lucky he was so out of it. If he hadn’t been, he would’ve had time to obsess and subsequently panic about being alone. He’d been alone for the past couple of months, but he’d just been hiding out in a spare bedroom. An entire cross-country trip all by himself would’ve undoubtedly had him spiraling downward _fast_ if not for how hollow he was inside.

All Jean had was his phone and a small backpack full of clothes Renee had picked up for him. He hadn’t been able to bring anything from Evermore, so the only things he owned at the moment were bare minimum essentials. He briefly wondered how he was going to manage in LA with no money. He got to Upstate Regional almost two hours before his flight, since the summer crowd meant things would probably move at a slow pace. The line at security crawled by, but Jean still made it to his gate with plenty of time to spare. He sat down at the terminal and pulled out his phone while he waited. There were two messages in his inbox.

The first was from Renee. She’d been unable to see him before he left as she was busy with academic finals all day, but she’d sent him a text between exams. " _Good luck!! :) i hope u have a good time in la & enjoy the sun!!_"

In response, Jean wished her good luck on her finals and went back to his inbox.

The other text was from Jeremy. " _Let me know when ur boarding! I’ll meet you in arrivals_ "

That managed to break through Jean’s numbness just a bit, because he hadn’t really put much thought into what would happen once he arrived in California. The season was over and classes had ended for USC, so he didn’t really expect anyone to still be around.

He shrugged it off and sat back in his seat, waiting for his plane to board.

Flying across the country was jarring and unnerving, even with Jean’s head about a million miles away. He was used to flying for away games, but it wasn’t the flying itself that startled him, it was the absence of the Ravens. Everyone around him was a stranger, and no one was wearing black. He was seated by the window with two strangers between him and the isle. He felt boxed in and too exposed all at once. He thought he should look next to him and see Riko, but every time he glanced to his right all he saw were unfamiliar faces. Trying to tuck down that gnawing sense of panic, he turned his attention to the window and looked out at the sky and the country stretching out below him.

It was a clear spring day, and any clouds that passed by were wispy and white and insubstantial. Mostly, the sky was nothing but blue.

In Evermore, he could go weeks or months without seeing the sky once. Every time he got out, for away games or errands or even classes, he made sure to drink up as much of it as he could. Looking out at all that sky now was almost enough to ease his anxiety. It was at least enough to distract him for the remainder of the flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaa okay!!! thanks for giving me/my fic a chance!!! imo this is my least fave chapter of the entire thing. i rewrote it like three times, and i never got it where i wanted it to be. i considered skipping it entirely, but. eventually i just cut my loses and in the end i really wanted to include this part in the story.
> 
> i hope it was okay & thanks for reading!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> admittedly, i've only ever been to la once so.. im trying to keep like. geographical mentions of the city scarce. my only memories of the place r being stuck in traffic and falling asleep on the beach & getting the worst sunburn in my life. i think there were a lot of palm trees. idk.
> 
> i also have never been to lax or usc, so idk anything about those places.

LAX would’ve been almost completely incapacitating had Jean not been there before. He remembered the place from past games against the Trojans, although it didn’t help to think about the fact that the last time he’d been here, Riko had been by his side. He suppressed a shudder and had to fight the urge to look to his left. _Riko’s dead,_ he thought, as he made his way out of the terminal. _He’s not here. He’s gone for good and I’m free._ If he said it enough he might finally start believing it.

He attempted to push all thoughts of Riko and the Ravens out of his mind. He couldn’t handle that right now. He didn’t need to have a panic attack on his first day in Los Angeles. Instead he focused on pushing his way through the crowd to find his way to arrivals. LAX was big and confusing, but it wasn’t too hard for him to navigate his way out of the terminal from memory. He bristled every time someone so much as brushed against him accidentally, scattering his thoughts and not doing anything to help his concentration.

Jean spotted Jeremy Knox before Jeremy noticed him. He was sitting cross-legged in a chair just outside the security checkpoint, fiddling with his phone. Jean almost didn’t recognize him without his Exy gear on, but he recognized the tan, freckled skin and sandy brown hair. One didn’t spend any extended amount of time around Kevin Day without familiarizing oneself at least a little bit with the Trojans. Jean faltered. He had to stop for a second to brace himself for this interaction. Even spending time with Abby had been exhausting, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with the type of unrelenting cheerfulness the Trojans expelled from every pore. He took a deep breath and started forward again, clutching at the straps of his backpack. Jeremy looked up before he reached him, and he spotted Jean quickly enough. He grinned widely and hopped out of his chair, waving at Jean even though they weren’t too far away from each other.

Jeremy was at least half a foot shorter than Jean, but he radiated confidence and happiness like actual sunlight. Beaming, he walked over to greet Jean. When he was close enough, his smile faltered slightly. Jean knew why: his injuries had mostly healed, but his face wasn’t completely back to normal yet. There were a few pink scars on the bridge of his nose, and he’d only just gotten the stitches out of the nasty gashes Riko had left on his cheek and chin. They were still red and puffy and probably not very pretty. At least the bruises and black eyes had faded. Jeremy rallied in a heartbeat and his toothy grin was back in full force. “Jean! Welcome to SoCal!” He gave Jean a quick once-over and knitted his eyebrows together. “Um, I know it’s only May, but it’s, like, almost a hundred outside right now.”

Jean glanced down at himself. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans, which contrasted like crazy with Jeremy’s tank top and bright-colored shorts. Jean returned Jeremy’s concern with a blank stare. Jeremy shrugged, and continued on. “At least it’s not black, I guess.”

There were a lot of reasons for Jean to cover up to spite the heat, but in truth he hadn’t even considered the weather. The Nest was always kept relatively cool, and it was still hard for him to accept he wouldn’t be confined to a black hole under the ground at all times. “Renee wouldn’t let me get anything in black,” Jean admitted.

“Good,” Jeremy said. “We have a strict anti-Raven dress code around here.” Jean wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but Jeremy was just as chatty as always so he just continued on. “It’s all good, though, there’s AC in the dorms. Do you have any luggage or anything to grab before we go?” He asked.

Jean secretly hoped they wouldn’t be spending all their time in the dorms. He didn’t know if he could _really_ escape Evermore if he just went from being trapped in one place to being trapped in another. But he couldn’t voice that, so he just shook his head and tugged on the straps to his backpack. “Just this.” He almost left it at that, but Jeremy’s chattiness was kind of infectious. “I didn’t exactly get to pack when Renee kidnapped me from Evermore.” He’d meant to sound casual, but it came out cold.

Jeremy accepted that and didn’t let his grin falter, although his eyebrows shot up. “Did she really _kidnap_ you?” He glanced up at Jean. “Er, I mean, you don’t have to talk about that. I just honestly thought Kevin was exaggerating about… certain things.”

Jean decided would have to figure out exactly how much Kevin had let slip to Jeremy at some point. “They weren’t overly eager to let me go,” was all he said.

Jeremy nodded. “Well, remind me to grab the p-card from Coach so we can get you some sheets and towels and junk.”

Jean nodded, and he and Jeremy headed for the door. Jeremy was right, the Southern California afternoon was outlandishly hot, but Jean barely noticed. It was both frightening and strengthening stepping out under the endless blue of the California sky. Jean had to fight not to stare openly upwards, and stuck close to Jeremy’s side. 

“The car’s not far,” Jeremy was saying. “It’s in short term parking.”

Jean just nodded and kept his eyes on the sidewalk.

Jeremy’s car was bright yellow, (because _of course_ it was, what other color could it be?), and the air conditioner and the radio both came to life along with the engine. Jeremy hastily turned down the radio with a babbled apology, but Jean shrugged it off. He didn’t mind it. Everything in Evermore had been somber and menacing, it was strange but a little relieving to hear a cheesy top-40 song.

Jeremy pulled out of the parking garage and got them on the road before making another attempt at conversation. “So, how was your flight?”

 _Weird. Disorienting. Kind of A Lot._ He shrugged. “It was alright.”

The rest of the drive to the dorms passed mostly in silence. Jeremy made a couple idle comments, but Jean was too busy checking out the city they passed to respond. The traffic was a nightmare. It was the tail end of rush hour, and most of the bigger streets were bumper-to-bumper tail lights stretching out in seemingly endless rows in front of them. Jeremy tried to keep to smaller side streets to avoid the traffic, butit seemed impossible to escape the traffic entirely.

USC’s campus was bigger than Edgar Allen’s had been. “The court and the dorms are on opposite ends of campus,” Jeremy explained as they got closer. “We can go by later and check it out, if you want.”

“I’ve been on your court before,” Jean said, but he realized after he said it that he kind of did want to go. He hadn’t picked up a racquet in over two months.

“ _Our_ court,” Jeremy corrected. “And you’ve never been to the home side. All your gear got delivered a couple days ago, if you want to make sure everything fits and junk.”

Jean shrugged noncommittally. “Alright. Fine.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jeremy said.

“No,” Jean backpedaled. “I do.”

Jeremy smiled and nodded. “Oh, here we go,” he said, pointing up ahead when the dorms came into view. The dorm building the Trojans lived in was the newest addiction to USC, a six-story L-shaped building constructed a couple years after the Exy program really took off. USC was already a big university with a population of over 40,000 students, and when the Trojans proved to be so good and their popularity grew that number only increased, leading to the necessity for more dormitories. Although the dorms were for the general population as well, they sort of became the Exy team's official residence hall before long. (Jean was a little surprised he retained all this information, considering it had come from Kevin back in the Nest.)

“Home sweet home,” Jeremy said, smiling. Jean wondered if that was just his default expression.

Jean was a little surprised to see there were other cars still in the parking lot. “Who else is here?” He asked.

Jeremy shrugged, following Jean’s gaze to the other cars. “Probably the RA’s or something. I heard they stick around longer than everyone else.” Jeremy pulled up into a parking space directly in front of the dorms. “Man, I’ve never been able to park this close. It’s usually packed.”

Jean didn't respond, becausethey were close enough now for him to get a good look at the building itself. His first thought was that it was just so… _Open_. As far as he could see, there were more windows than walls. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows lined the first floor lobby, and even the big double doors were made of glass. Jean hadn’t realized he’d frozen in place until Jeremy voice snapped him back to reality.

“You okay?” He asked.

Jean blinked and nodded. “Yes.” He noted with disdain how weak his own voice sounded, and grabbed is backpack and got out of the car.

Jeremy didn’t push it, and the two of them walked up to the front doors. “I think coach has your dorm keys,” he said as he swiped a key fob in front of the censor by the door and pulled them open. “We’ll grab them when we stop by the court later.” He had to swipe another censor to call the elevator, and when he was inside he pushed the button for the sixth floor. Jeremy rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “We’re up on top. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

“That’s fine,” Jean said. He meant it, too. After living underground for ten years, he was scared of… the opposite of heights. The higher off the ground the better.

The elevator dinged when it reached the top floor, and Jean followed Jeremy out. The top floor was just as open as the bottom floor had been. There were windows anywhere the floor plan would allow it, letting the bright evening sun shine onto the light beige carpet on the floor. That, along with the bright, off-white walls sent a shiver down Jean’s spine.

“Alright, our room’s just down here,” Jeremy said, leading him down to the room at the end of the hallway. Red-and-gold numbers on the door marked it as number 602. He dug around on his key ring until he found the right key and opened the door up. Once again, the first thing that struck Jean was the openness. Even at Abby’s, he’d still felt kind of… in the dark. There was a window in the bedroom he’d occupied, but it was small and partially obscured by a tree. The front room of the dorm, which was half-living room, half-kitchen, had a massive window set into the far wall. From this high up, Jean could see several blocks of the Los Angeles landscape, but what he liked most was the endless stretch of blue plainly visible, from right there in his new living room. He was positive he’d never get used to it, but he didn’t want to. If he ever needed reminding that he was _really_ out of the Nest, all he’d have to do was look up. He felt a little dizzy.

Jean tore his eyes away from the window when Jeremy spoke up again. “So, this is the living room. Er, obviously. The bathroom’s down the hall on your right, and the bedroom’s right passed it down at the end.”

Jean looked over at him and nodded. Because he needed something to do besides stand around and stare stupidly at a window, he walked down to put his scant things away. The bedroom was tiny compared to the ones he’d had in the Nest, but the white walls and overall absence of crushing hatred made it feel bigger. Like everything he’d encountered so far, it was just so much more _open_ than anything he’d previously experienced. There was two of everything on opposite sides of the room: two beds, dressers, desks, and nightstands. There was a closet on one wall and another window opposite it. Jean thought he should probably stop being amazed every time he saw something as trivial as a window.

“I already took over that side,” Jeremy said from the doorway. Jean glanced back at him and followed his finger to the far side of the room. He could’ve figured that out on his own: one side of the room was completely empty, while the other was… Cluttered, to put it nicely. Jeremy’s phone chirped at him, and he looked down at it. “Hang on. I’ll be right back,” he said, holding up a finger and leaving Jean in the bedroom.

Once he was gone, Jean crossed the room and sat on his bed. He set his backpack down beside him and pulled out his own phone. He took a deep breath and tapped out a quick message to Renee.

" _This place is like the opposite of the Nest_." He pressed send with a slightly shaky finger.

 

-

 

After depositing the few outfits he owned in his dresser and putting his toiletries away in the bathroom, Jean went out to the living room to find Jeremy perched on the arm of the couch and engrossed in a text conversation. He took the opportunity to really look at the place. The living room looked lived in. A blue couch was pushed up against one wall, and a TV was perched on top of a set of shelves which were crowded with discs and papers and various other miscellaneous items. There was a small coffee table in the middle of the room, and a big, comfy looking chair in the corner by the window.

He looked up to find Jeremy was looking at him. When he caught his eye, Jeremy wiggled his phone. “The team can’t wait to meet you,” he said.

“They’ve met me,” Jean said, a bit puzzled. “We’ve played each other many times.”

Jeremy laughed gently, grinning. “Okay, yeah, but I mean… They can’t wait to get to know you. Laila and Alvarez won’t stop texting me about you.” As if on cue, Jeremy’s phone went off again, twice, in rapid succession.

“I just got here. There can’t be that much to tell yet.” Jean said, eyeing the phone.

Jeremy shrugged. “That’s not gonna stop the girls. They’re kind of… intense.” He made a face. Jean thought that anyone who Jeremy Knox would describe as intense must be on an entirely different plane of existence. “Anyway, I think they’re just jealous I get to spend all this extra time with you when I’m not even on the defense line. Alvarez is pretty psyched to play with you.”

Jean paused. He didn’t want to derail the topic so badly, but Jeremy had reminded him of something that had been nagging at his mind since that first phone call a couple weeks ago. “Why _did_ you bring me out here so early?” Jean asked. “Why… go through all the trouble?” Jean sounded colder than he’d intended. Logically, he knew it was probably just another instance of that Trojan goodwill nonsense, but he couldn’t help but feel suspicious after a decade of conditioning by Riko and the Ravens. Nothing ever come to Jean without a price, and he didn’t want to spend the rest of the summer figuring out what he’d have to pay for this.

Jeremy looked a little confused. “What do you mean? I thought you wanted to be out of Palmetto.”

Jean folded his arms over his chest. “Yes, but…” He tapped the fingers of one hand against his arm, trying to figure out how to phrase this without A) being a complete asshole and fucking something up irreparably, or B) giving away any more than he already had. “Why go through all the trouble. Why fly me out here early and work out whatever deal your coach did to get me into the dorms over summer? I don’t need any… charity, or whatever this is.”

Jeremy still looked a little confused, but he managed to bring his smile back. “It’s definitely not charity. We want to win championships this year, and you’re the best backliner in the NCAA. You can see how that might be a good thing for us, right? If Rhemann has to coerce the administration into giving us a few extra weeks in the dorms to get you here, it’s worth it.” Jeremy shrugged. “And on top of that, you’re a part of the team now. We look out for each other.”

Jean dropped his hands to his side and shoved them in his pockets. He could accept that, at least. For now. Jean nodded. Jeremy seemed to accept that was all the response he was going to get and hopped up off the couch.

“You still wanna go check out the court?” He asked.

Jean nodded again, and followed Jeremy back out of the dorms. The constant stream of sunlight was just as much of a shock to the system on the way out, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

 

-

 

Jean had been to the Trojan Court before. Although Evermore basically always hosted the final championship game thanks to the need for extra seating, they’d wound up facing the Trojans on their home court for semifinals more than once in the past. He knew, objectively, that Castle Evermore was bigger than this court was, since Evermore doubled as the national team’s court, but Evermore was a black hole of hatred and even after spending a decade literally living below the stadium it had always felt like it was crushing him.

He remembered the first thing he’d said to Riko, standing in the Raven’s home locker room as a child, his heart full of anger and betrayal and just so much hurt. _You guys need to tone it the fuck down with all the black, this place looks fucking ridiculous,_ he’d snapped, his grasp on English still a little tenuous, little hands balled into tight fists. He also remembered Riko’s little smirk, Kevin’s blank stare, and the beating he'd received for that mouthiness.

This locker room was all red and gold everywhere, not a single sign of black anywhere in sight.

The home side of the locker room looked pretty similar to the away side, but the team room was… _homier_. Team photos littered the walls, and a bunch of cushy looking couches and beanbag chairs were arranged sporadically around the room. There were trophies on a shelf beneath a television which was mounted on the wall. Jean didn’t stop to inspect the place further, but instead went down the hall to the changing room. Jeremy was still chatting away, but Jean didn’t really hear him anymore. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but as soon as he saw his name on a maroon locker, his brain pretty much stopped processing sound.

In fact, he wasn’t really aware of anything outside of that stupid locker. Belatedly, he realized he was reaching out, his fingers grazing against the gold _MOREAU_ across the locker, and the number _9_ right above it. He froze with his fingertips barely a millimeter from the metal, unable to stop the faint trembling in his arm. It was ridiculous. Completely fucking ridiculous. It was a number and a colorful locker, it shouldn’t have been… Doing whatever it was to him. He hated how shaky he felt just trying to make it through life day to day. It was even worse when he remembered he had an audience. He dropped his hand to his side and tried to bring himself back to reality. Jeremy had gone silent, but Jean didn’t look up at him.

The silence stretched on for some indeterminate amount of time, but Jean was saved by Jeremy’s phone going off. Only when Jeremy picked it up with a quiet “Hello?” did Jean turn to face him again. Jeremy was pointedly not looking at Jean, running the hand he wasn’t using to hold his phone through his hair.

Jeremy perked up at whatever the other person said over the phone. “Oh, cool. Yeah, we’re in the locker room. Be right out.” He hung up and looked at Jean. “Coach is here. He just pulled up outside, he said to meet him in his office so we can go get your dorm keys and stuff.” He gestured with his hands while he talked.

Jean took a shaky breath and nodded. He didn’t trust his voice, but he thought if he didn’t talk he might get lost again. “Alright,” he said, “let’s go.”

Jeremy opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but seemed to change his mind and closed it again. He smiled instead and turned on his heel. “Right. C’mon,” he said as he lead the way out of the locker room. Jean threw one last glance at his locker before following.

Coach Rhemann was unlocking the door to his office when Jeremy and Jean found him. He was a serious looking man, but he had obvious smile lines on his face. He looked up at Jeremy and Jean’s approach, opening the office door and preceding them inside. He turned and leaned against his desk. “Jean Moreau, hello,” he said. He extended his hand and Jean had to fight not to flinch away. He was fairly sure he succeeded, and if he didn’t neither of the others said anything. _He’s not the master_ , Jean told himself, reaching out to shake Rhemann’s hand.

“Hello.” Jean replied, hoping his voice sounded even and level to the others.

“How’s LA treating you so far?” Rhemann asked.

Jean shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said. “Very sunny.”

“Yeah, you’d better stock up on sunscreen. You’re looking pretty pale. Don’t want you to burn too bad.”

“Speaking of,” Jeremy cut in, moving to stand at Jean’s side with his signature grin firmly in place. “Caaan Jean and I take the purchasing card? We need to stock up on some stuff.”

Rhemann turned to Jeremy and raised one of his eyebrows skeptically. “Knox, the last time I gave you the card, you and Alvarez spent ninety dollars at In-N-Out. I’m not sure I trust you with it anymore.”

Jeremy held up his hands defensively. “It was a team lunch, and none of us had our wallets on us.”

“None of the twenty-eight of you had your wallets?”

“Nope.” Jeremy shrugged in mock-innocence. “We’re a forgetful bunch, Coach. But this isn’t like that. We just need some groceries and necessities. Jean doesn’t even have a pillow. C’mon.”

Jean couldn’t help but thinking that if anyone had spoken to Tetsuji like that they’d be knocked unconscious. And then he mentally scolded himself, because comparing every interaction and every new person he met to his time with the Ravens would not help in the slightest.

Rhemann shrugged, smiling. “Yeah, yeah, alright.” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, digging around for a specific card. “Moreau, I’m trusting you not to let him go too crazy with the spending.”

Jean glanced over at Jeremy. “Okay,” he said.

Rhemann eventually fished out the right card, handing it over to Jeremy with a skeptical look in his eyes. Jeremy pocketed it with a quick thank you. “Oh, wait, hold up a sec.” Rhemann said, moving around behind his desk to rummage through one of the drawers. He pulled out a manilla envelope and passed it over to Jean. “Paperwork for the dorm and a class catalogue. The keys should be in there, too,” he explained. “There’s some things you need to sign, but just drop ‘em off at the front desk anytime. Jeremy’ll show you where.”

Jean nodded. “Thank you,” he said, opening the envelope and leafing through the papers inside, and digging out two silver keys and a black fob attached to a key ring. Jeremy leaned over and pointed to each of the keys.

“The little one’s for the mailbox, and the big ones for the door itself. The fob gets you into the building,” he explained.

Jean nodded. Not needing them right now, he dropped the keys back into the envelope and sealed it shut again.

 

-

 

Half an hour later, Jeremy and Jean pulled into the parking lot of a Target. Before leaving the court, Jeremy had asked if Jean wanted to try on his new gear, but Jean had figured that if seeing his locker had almost sent him into a panic attack than it would probably be best to wait to actually put on his new Trojan uniform. So, the pair of them left the stadium and got back into Jeremy’s car to head to the store. Jeremy asked if Jean wanted to go in by himself, and Jean’s stomach almost bottomed out. He wondered how he was supposed to ask Jeremy to come with him without sounding completely pathetic. How could he possibly explain that even a trip to the grocery store alone was completely out of the question? Alone was absolutely not something Jean could handle yet.

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when Jeremy said, “wait, never mind. I need to grab some food. Things are pretty scarce back at the dorm.” And so they both got out of the car and went inside.

Jeremy didn’t let Jean buy anything in black, which Jean supposed he was glad for. Objectively, he knew the Raven conditioning was a whole lot of fucked up and it would do him good to break himself of the habit, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually do it. In the end he just let Jeremy pick out most of his things. He did wind up getting most of his things in darker colors; mostly grays and navies and a few deep burgundies and maroons. (Those were Jeremy favorites. “They’re like… transitional pieces,” he claimed. “Half way between our colors and theirs.”) Jean didn’t care much about what they bought until Jeremy started picking out their groceries.

“You can’t be serious,” he finally said, pushed over the top when Jeremy added a box of cake mix and two canisters of 'Fun-fetti' icing. “That’s incredibly unhealthy.” He wrinkled his nose. The Ravens always ate as healthy as humanly possible, but even before that Jean had always eaten healthy. His mother hated how lacking the food in America was, and even though Jean hated her guts at this point, she’d still managed to pass down her disdain for the crap that most people accepted as food.

Jeremy looked up at him, raising his eyebrows. “And also delicious,” he countered.

“You’re the captain of a Class I team, shouldn’t you be more conscious about what you eat?” He folded his arms across the handle of the cart.

Jeremy laughed, leaning over the front end of the cart so he could look up at Jean. “Very conscious of it, as in, conscious of how good this cake is gonna be.”

Jean didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he just settled for rolling his eyes and putting one of the tubs of frosting back on the shelf when Jeremy wasn’t looking.

 

-

 

Jean didn’t realize how exhausted he was until he got back to the dorm that night. He sat on his bed without even unpacking anything they’d bought, resting his head against the wall and letting his eyes close.

He couldn’t help but feeling like all of this was… temporary. The Ravens were still casting their nasty black shadows over his life, and it was like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. None of this could last; nothing good ever lasted for Jean Moreau. Ten years of trauma and abuse wasn’t going to just go away, it would stay with him forever and no matter what happened here in LA he’d still carry bits of Riko and the Nest with him.

He listened to Jeremy unloading the groceries in the main room, and thought about texting Renee before disregarding the idea when he realized it would be almost 1 AM in South Carolina. He was already overwhelmed, but he all in all he thought his first day in California could’ve gone worse.

His second day was a complete fucking disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thanks for reading!!! i hope y'all like it so far :3c
> 
>   ~~also, i may or may not have made their dorm number 602 bc that was my dorm number last year & based the layout of the dorms off my own dorm lmfao~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: panic attacks & talk of riko's death. (nothing too graphic tho. like i said nothing i write will ever be as Intense as the actual books themselves)

Tuesday started out fine. He awoke to sunlight streaming over his face and for a minute he forgot if he was in Abby’s spare bedroom or the dorm in USC, but he knew he wasn’t in the Nest and that was enough. He went out to the living room and sat on the couch, just enjoying watching the sky through the window. Eventually, Jeremy joined him and made breakfast, turning on the TV for background noise while they ate. He flipped through the stations absently, until—

“—cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the head. Police have ruled it a suicide, and the funeral was held earlier this week in West Virginia.”

There was a picture of Riko on the screen, and a balding man on a sports news network with an obvious comb-over was talking in a voice which was far too monotonous for the subject he was discussing. “After Edgar Allen suffered its first loss on Friday to the Palmetto State University Foxes, the bad news just keeps coming for the formerly first-ranked Ravens.”

The man’s co-anchor, a woman with obnoxiously yellow hair, nodded and picked up the story when he finished his sentence. “Such a tragedy. And to top it all off, we received confirmation earlier this morning that Tetsuji Moriyama will be resigning as the Ravens’ coach, effective immediately.”

“A real shame.” The man said. “This has certainly been a terrible season for the Ravens. On the tail-end of a thorough internal investigation into claims of violent hazing, and rumors that Kevin Day’s accident last December might not have been so accidental after all, one has to wonder if the Ravens will be able to bounce back from this.”

The woman nodded and hummed in agreement. “They’ll definitely need a miracle to recover. Had this news come before Friday, I would’ve wagered that the Ravens could come back from anything. But after Riko Moriyama’s near miss with Neil Josten on court Friday night, the world has wonder if the Ravens are a little more unhinged than their perfectly synchronized plays would lead us to believe.”

The man nodded and said something else, and then a clip started playing. It looked like it started right after the final buzzer of the championship game from Friday night, directly after Jean had shut the TV off. The camera focusing on a shot closer to the Fox goal, where Riko was standing and Neil Josten was kneeling on the court floor. The plexiglass walls meant no one could hear what was being said, but after a moment Riko turned to Neil, and then he raised his racquet over his head. Jean couldn’t help it, he flinched just watching the racquet sail downward, crashing toward Josten.

_Why the fuck did he take his helmet off?_

But then, quicker than lightning, Minyard appeared in the shot, swinging his own racquet directly into Riko’s arm. Riko’s swing was disrupted and his racquet clattered harmlessly away across the court. Jean could see Riko’s arm was bent at a grotesque angle. He remembered Renee saying something about Riko shattering his arm, but he’d disregarded it in favor of the more pressing issue of Riko’s death. The news casters were saying something, talking about how the break and the loss had likely caused Riko, a man who devoted his entire self to Exy, to kill himself. If he was unable to play, he likely didn’t see the reason to live.

Jean knew the truth. Renee had already told him Ichirou had executed his younger brother. He was useless dead weight, and his violent streak was becoming a massive liability. There was no way he would’ve been allowed to live after that little display. He’d almost killed Neil Josten on in the middle of a court with tens of thousands of people in attendance, during a game which was likely being broadcast live to all the major sports networks.

Jean didn’t stick around to hear anything else. His heart was already pounding out of his ribs, and the rest of the world was white noise. He stood, vaguely aware that Jeremy was saying something to him, and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He leaned back against the door, sliding down to the ground with his hands in his hair. His entire body was trembling, and his mind was spiraling down a dark path.

It wasn’t like this was news to him. Well, some of it was. The master was stepping down, and Riko had almost attacked someone on live television. But Jean had known about Riko’s death since Sunday afternoon. There was still something about seeing it on the news, making it be official and having it out there in the world. He should be glad. He fucking hated Riko and Tetsuji and they deserved what they got and then some. And Ichirou had made it obvious he chose Neil, Kevin, and Jean over Riko. If he had any qualms about Josten’s little deal, he had to know he was safe now.

But panic attacks didn’t listen to reason, so all he could do was hug his knees to his chest and try to squeeze himself into nonexistence.

 

-

 

Wednesday wasn’t much better, although instead of panic Jean just sort of drifted through the day in a state of constant numbness and dissociation. Jeremy tried to talk to him, but gave up pretty quickly when he realized Jean wasn’t going to answer. Thursday was marginally better, but most of Wednesday’s numbness had faded to a bone-deep exhaustion that Jean was unable to sleep or caffeinate away.

Unfortunately, he’d slept so late and ingested so much coffee that Thursday night found him unable to sleep much at all. He pretended to be asleep when Jeremy came in to go to bed, not having the energy to deal with human interaction. When he was fairly certain his roommate had gone to sleep, he rolled over, his eyes fixing on the sky outside the window. The room was dark, illuminated only by the city lights of Los Angeles outside the dorm.

Eventually, Jean couldn’t help but to glance over at Jeremy. Jean thought he and Jeremy were about as _opposite_ as two people could get, and his opinion didn’t change when he saw how Jeremy was sprawled out across his bed. In the Nest, no one slept like that. Even unconscious, Ravens knew they needed to protect themselves. They slept close to the wall and usually curled in on themselves, trying to make themselves as small as possible. Any display of openness and vulnerability would be exploited, even asleep. But Jeremy slept with his limbs all over the place, stretched out across his bed. Jean didn’t know what to make of that, so he just rolled over and shut his eyes again, trying to force himself to get some sleep.

 

-

 

Jean got out of bed after what was definitely got enough sleep on Friday morning. He still felt exhausted, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get back to sleep. It would be Renee’s last day of finals, so he texted her around 9:00 asking how the week had gone. She didn’t get back to him right away, but Jean figured she was in the middle of an exam or something. He occupied himself by making coffee, and went to drink it in front of the window. He wasn’t sure how much later it was, but eventually Jeremy woke up and joined him in the living room.

Jean glanced up at him. “There’s coffee in the pot,” he said. “If you want any.”

Jeremy stopped in the kitchen. “He speaks,” he said. “I was getting kinda worried there. I don’t think you’ve said anything to me since Monday.”

Jean shrugged, sipping at his coffee.

“Sorry,” Jeremy continued. “I didn’t mean anything bad by that. I was actually a little worried. After- you know.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck awkwardly. “After Tuesday. Um. Are you… Are you doing alright? I mean, I don’t… I don’t really know what all Riko did but- Kevin mentioned-” He gestured to his own face, likely meaning the still-healing cuts on Jean’s cheeks and chin.

Jean was beginning to think Jeremy’s chattiness was a nervous reaction, especially with how flustered he got sometimes. Instead of answering, he dodged the question entirely for one of his own. Jean needed to know exactly how much Jeremy knew, how much Kevin had given away. “What exactly _did_ Kevin say to you?” He sounded a bit colder than he’d meant to, but he didn’t like being on uneven footing and being in the dark, so he didn’t begrudge himself the iciness.

If Jeremy noticed the chill in his voice, he didn’t say anything. “Nothing good,” Jeremy said, giving his head a little shake. “He told me… about Riko.” Jean almost dropped his cup. He couldn’t mean all of it. Not about the Moriyamas. “He said Riko was the one who broke his hand, and that it was no accident. And he said… Well, he told me what he did to you the night Renee Walker got you out of Evermore.” Jeremy frowned. “He also strongly implied that it wasn’t the first time Riko or Tetsuji had hurt you guys.”

Jean reached over to set his mug on the coffee table. “That’s all?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. That’s all.”

Jean returned the nod, tapping his fingers against the coffee table. He could live with that.

Jeremy flexed his fingers. “I’m not going to pry or force you to open up about personal stuff,” he said. “But if you ever wanna like… Talk about it, or just talk about anything, I’m here. And so are the school’s counselors.” He met Jean’s eyes, but Jean didn’t have anything to say to that. He gave another little stiff nod. Jeremy smiled, smaller and softer than his usual toothy grin. He turned towards the kitchen and started pulling things out of the cupboards. “Anyway, I’m gonna make pancakes. Want any?”

 

-

 

By the following Monday, Jean’s thoughts had started to return to Exy. Abby had refused to let him anywhere near a court when he had been staying in Palmetto, but she wouldn’t have even needed to. He’d practice with the Foxes over his dead body. Behind only the Ravens, they were the team he least wanted to interact with. Although Abby had cleared him to play again before leaving, he’d spent his first week in Los Angeles too busy fighting with his own internal shit and being afraid of his locker to even think of getting on the Trojan court. It’d been over two months since the last time he played, and that was far too long. If he wanted to be worth a damn to his new team, and, by extension, Ichirou and the main branch, he’d need to start practicing again.

On Monday morning, Jean was the first up, and he waited somewhat impatiently in the main room for Jeremy to wake up.

Jeremy came out of the bedroom after about an hour, his hair still messy and rumpled from sleep and yawning into his hand. He looked up, and started when he saw Jean, who was currently perched on the counter in the kitchen with his brows furrowed. “Good morning,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Can we go to the court today?” Jean asked without any preamble.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, raising both his eyebrows in surprise and nodding after a few seconds. “Yeah, sure. Um, can I eat breakfast first, or…?” He gestured expansively with his hands. Jean responded by sliding down off the counter.

“Take your time,” Jean said. “I’m going to shower,” he walked passed Jeremy and shut himself in the bathroom. To spite what he said, Jean spent the first five minutes staring at his reflection in the mirror. The cuts Riko had left on his face were healing, but were still obvious and not a nice thing to look at. His hair was growing back where Riko had ripped it out and starting to return to normal, but it was still noticeably uneven in places. Any bruises had faded long ago, and even the scars would at least get smaller with time. But his eyes fell to one mark which would never fade. Riko was gone and Jean didn’t have to be anyone’s property anymore - but he was unable to look away from the black '3' on his face.

Maybe one day he’d summon whatever strength Kevin had found and get rid of the damn thing. Maybe one day he’d get out of Riko’s shadow. Maybe some day every little thing would stop fucking making him think of Riko. And just maybe one day he’d stop having a damn existential crisis every thirty seconds and get on with his life.

Tearing his eyes away from the mirror, Jean took a quick, hot shower and dressed in a thin but still long-sleeved shirt and jeans. After several weeks in Abby and Renee’s care and a week in California, it was getting easier to wear colors besides black, but the sight of it still made him frown.

It made Jeremy frown, too, when he joined him in the main room, but for different reasons. “One of these days you should really get some more weather-appropriate clothes,” he commented.

“This is fine,” Jean said in response.

“If you say so.” Jeremy conceded, shrugging. “My turn,” he said as he passed Jean and went down the hallway. “There’s eggs on the stove. Help yourself. We can leave when I’m done if you’re ready.”

Jean helped himself to some breakfast and waited for Jeremy to get out of the shower. He had to admit Jeremy was a decent cook, when he wasn’t making horrifically unhealthy baked goods and adding chocolate chips to anything that permitted it.

 

-

 

They drove to the stadium with all the windows down and the radio playing some upbeat pop song. Jean resisted the urge to stick his head out the window and soak up the sun and fresh air, but it was a near thing. He settled for leaning his side against the door with his elbow on the open window with his head resting in his hand.

About half-way there, Jeremy started going on about plays and practice and just generally how excited he was about the upcoming season. “I know it’s just the two of us right now, but Laila and Alvarez will be in town next week and then we can do some proper scrimmages,” he was saying. “And I really want your input on some plays I want the team to work on once summer practices actually start.”

Jean glanced over at Jeremy, thinking for about the thousandth time how completely and utterly different he was from Riko. His only experience with Exy captains prior to Jeremy was Riko, and Jean found himself utterly bewildered almost every time Jeremy opened his mouth. People were quick to assume the Trojan’s good sportsmanship and easy cheer was a long-running publicity stunt, but the more time Jean spent in the California the more convinced he became that they actually were genuinely that good natured.

Which lead Jean to the only conclusion he could come to: _This can’t last._

He kept his mouth shut, though, because Jeremy was still enthusiastically talking about Exy. “But I mean, we don’t have to worry about that today. We can just do some drills and stuff. At least we’ve got offense and defense, so we can work on scoring and blocking.” He drove with one hand and gestured expansively with the other as he talked. Jean counted it as a personal victory that he didn’t flinch away from the movements.

He stopped when they pulled up to the stadium. He turned to Jean with an excited grin on his face. “Here we go.”

Jeremy got out of the car, and after taking a deep breath, Jean followed him.

Jeremy had a set of keys to the court on his keychain, and he let them into the stadium and lead the way down to the locker room. Jean paused again when he reached his locker, but this time he actually had good reason to. In the Nest, there was no privacy. Everyone knew everything about each other, and there was no hope of hiding anything. Jean had never even gotten to option of keeping the evidence of Riko’s abuse a secret. Standing in the middle of the locker room, in front of his open locker and holding the pieces of his armor, it occurred to him that it didn’t have to be like that here.

For the first time in over a decade Jean actually got to decide something about his own body.

His skin tingled a little. For a moment he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. If he hid, he felt like he would be letting Riko control him from across hundreds of miles and six feet under. _Fuck Riko, Riko is dead_. Taking a breath, he stripped his shirt off and started strapping on his court gear. For the most part, there wasn’t much to look at. There were white scars crisscrossing his back and his abdomen, courtesy of Riko’s blades, and he’d only just gotten the stitches out of the cuts he got his last night in Evermore. Abby had said his ribs were healed, but there were still some fading bruises around his chest.

He was adjusting his shoulder armor when Jeremy interrupted him. “Are you sure you’re okay to play?” He asked.

Jean looked up at him, and was almost surprised to see visible concern on Jeremy’s face. Jean nodded. “The Foxes nurse cleared me before I left. I can play. It’s all mostly healed anyway and I’ve played in worse conditions.”

Jeremy didn’t look at all pleased to hear that, but he just pursed his lips and continued putting his own gear on. “Well, if you end up getting hurt on our lineup, you’re taking time off and not playing till you’re healed,” he told him.

“Without Riko around, I can’t really see myself getting hurt bad enough to miss play,” Jean countered, shrugging on his jersey and digging around in his locker for his neck guard to avoid looking at Jeremy.

That effectively killed the conversation, and the two of them finished putting on their gear in silence. It was surreal to look down and see the golden number 9 on the cardinal red of his jersey, but if he focused too hard on that he was going to get lost in his head again and that was something he’d like to avoid. He avoided looking in the mirror and proceeded Jeremy out to the inner court.

A little bit away from the home benches was the door to the gear closet. Jeremy set his helmet and his gloves down on the bench and got the door open, rummaging around until he found a bucket of balls and the stick rack. Looking out at the court, Jean could practically feel his muscles aching already. He flexed his fingers, imagining the weight of a racquet in his hands. Jeremy set the balls and the sticks aside and came to stand beside Jean. “So let’s start with some warm ups, yeah?”

Jean nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed.

Jean’s absence from the court these last two months became apparent almost immediately. He started getting winded after just a few laps around the inner court, although he kept pushing himself to spite the burn in his muscles. He couldn’t quite escape the thoughts of _not good enough_ and the fear of retribution for falling so spectacularly short. He kept going until he had to stop, doubling over and trying to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. He straightened after a minute, and wasn’t surprised to find Jeremy looking back at him with what looked like worry written on his face. Instead of saying anything, however, he just suggested they do some stretches and get on the court itself for drills. Jean nodded his agreement.

Actually stepping onto the court was… something. The weight of a racquet in his hand again was familiar and comforting, but it also felt almost like the last two months of his life had never happened, like he was right back at square one with the Ravens and their intense practices and 16 hour days. This was what he knew, what he was good at, but what he knew was the Ravens. So sure, it was familiar, but nothing that was _familiar_ to Jean was particularly pleasant.

_Why the fuck does Riko have to ruin everything._

He squared his shoulders and tested the weight of his new racquet, swinging it and switching it from hand to hand experimentally. Jeremy set the bucket of spare balls in the corner near the home goal. He grabbed one of the balls, throwing it up and catching it a couple times before he looked over to Jean. “Ready to go?” He asked.

Jean nodded in response.

They started off doing simple drills to warm up, tossing the ball back and forth and from increasing distances across the court. As they moved passed that and started doing trickier drills that required more of Jean’s focus and energy, tension he hadn’t even registered was there started to seep out of his shoulders. Exy was muscle memory at this point in his life, and it was easy to forget his anxieties and just play. It wasn’t exactly a comfort, but at least it was a way out for a brief amount of time.

Of course, it didn’t last for long. Jeremy was a good striker, one of the best Jean had played against, and even with all his Raven training and skill, he was extremely out of practice, so it didn’t take long for him to start making mistakes. He fumbled on a rebound Jeremy sent his way, and the ball slipped from his racquet and rolled across the court floor. He swore he could feel his breath hitch in his chest. It just got worse from there. The more mistakes he made, the worse his hands trembled and his thoughts seemed to blur around the edges, which only lead to more fumbling and more desperate moves. It was a vicious cycle and a quick downward spiral.

They were playing one-on-one, Jeremy trying to score and Jean trying to block his shots, when Jean finally broke. He kept letting shots passed him that he should’ve been able to stop, and every time the goal lit up red Jean flinched. After losing too many goals, Jean managed to catch the ball and as soon as he did slammed it as far up the court as he could. With his fingers already shaky, he lost his grip on his racquet and it skittered several feet away from him down the court. That was about all Jean’s fraying psyche could take for now, and all he could see was black.

He couldn’t really remember dropping down, but at this point in his life it was just instinctual to curl in on himself as tight as possible to protect himself in situations like this. In a flash he was crouching down on the court floor, his hands up over his head and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. It faded almost as quick as it had come, but it took his body a moment to catch up. The blackness was beginning to fade from his mind, but he was still crouched on the court floor, his muscles locked up and unable to move properly.

He came back to himself too slowly for his own liking. As his breathing evened out, the rest of the world stopped being nothing but blackness and he opened his eyes, lowering his arms and slouching as his muscles relaxed. He wasn’t exactly sure how much time he’d lost, but when he finally tore his eyes off the floor and looked up he saw Jeremy a few feet away. He was fumbling with the straps of his helmet, until he finally got it undone and tugged his helmet off. His own racquet was forgotten on the floor a few feet back.

Everything still sounded a little far away but Jean was pretty sure Jeremy was speaking to him. Jean finally found the strength to stand, and his first thought was to just get right back to play. He made to go around Jeremy and grab his racquet back, but Jeremy intercepted him. He put his hand up and stepped between Jean and the racquet. He didn’t touch him, but he was still a barrier. Jean was a decent few inches taller than Jeremy and probably could’ve just gotten passed him if he wanted to, but he stopped anyway.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, his voice an unsteady mid-point between soft and stern. “Talk to me, Jean. Are you okay?”

It took Jean a moment to find his voice, and when he did it was less steady than he would’ve liked. “Let’s just keep playing.”

Jeremy made a noise which sounded like disbelief. “No offense, but it doesn’t really look like you _can_ play right now.”

Jean felt the way his entire body was still trembling, and silently agreed. But his slightly crooked fingers were evidence that he’d played under far worse conditions.

Jeremy accepted his silence for only a moment. He dropped his hands, but Jean stayed put anyway. “Hey. We can come back later. Give yourself a break, it’s your first day back. There’s still three months till the season starts. It’s okay to be a little… off your game right now.”

Of all the things Jeremy could’ve said, that was the thing Jean had the hardest time believing. He shook his head. Jeremy could never understand and Jean could never explain that Exy was literally life or death, and a block like this tipped the scales horribly out of his favor. “It’s not okay.”

A brief silence told Jean that Jeremy had no idea what to say to that. Jean still hadn’t even looked at him. His eyes were still on the racquet several feet away. “Maybe it can be,” Jeremy finally said. “Just give it some time. Give yourself some time.” Jean thought he might have been talking about more than Exy. “Come on,” he continued. “That’s enough for today.”

Jean finally looked up at him, and didn’t quite know how to read the look on his face. There was concern there, but something else too, which didn't sit well with Jean. His problems were his to deal with, but he infected everything and everyone around him. “Fine,” Jean finally said. “We’ll stop. Can I go get my racquet now?” He gestured passed Jeremy to where the stick was still sitting.

Jeremy managed a small smile. He nodded and stepped aside. “I’ll clean up the balls and then let’s get out of here.”

 

-

 

The next day, they didn’t return to the court. Jean didn’t ask, and Jeremy didn’t bring it up. Jean would’ve liked to go back on Wednesday, but Jeremy had other plans for them. He took Jean walking around the empty USC campus, saying something about needing to get Jean more sun, and then went out to eat afterward. Jean felt a little uncomfortable being so exposed and out in the open, but it helped to not be alone. Jeremy wasn’t a Raven, but he’d been a constant presence in Jean’s life for the last week and that was enough to soothe his anxiety when they were out.

They went back to the court on Thursday, and it went better than Monday had. Jean managed to keep his nerves down, and he played better than he had the last time. They returned again on Friday, and although it wasn’t a repeat of Monday, it didn’t exactly go smoothly. Jean had been so focused on his own game yesterday he hadn’t paid much attention to Jeremy. But today he was feeling confident enough on the court that he started to tune into how the both of them were playing.

The ball sailed towards him, but instead of deflecting it back, he caught it in the net of his racquet and popped it onto the floor at his feet. He dropped his racquet on the floor, and could see Jeremy’s frame shift from his spot on first-fourth.

“Jean?” Jeremy said. “You good?”

Jean didn’t answer, and instead he strode over to him until he and Jeremy were standing a scant few inches apart. “Why are you holding back?”

Jeremy looked genuinely surprised. “I’m not—“

“Stuff it, Knox,” Jean practically growled. Belatedly he counted that as a victory. If he’d ever snapped at Riko like that he’d be on the court the next day with a myriad of new cuts and bruises. He tensed, but the adrenaline from playing was doing a good job of keeping any fear away. He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve played against you before. I know how well you can play, and you’re holding back. _Stop it_.”

Jeremy frowned, but to his credit he didn’t look phased by being snapped at. “You’ve been off the court with serious injuries the last two months. I was just taking it easy at first. And after what happened on Monday—“

“What happened on Monday will only keep happening if neither of us is playing to our full potential.” Jean cut him off.

Jeremy sent him a searching look through his helmet, but finally he sighed and nodded. “Alright, fine. But if it ever gets to be too much for you, we’re cutting this short and going back to the dorm.”

Jean snorted derisively. “Your team has lost to the Ravens every time we’ve played. I think I can handle it.”

“ _Our_ team,” Jeremy corrected him, but sounded in higher spirits as he went back to his spot on the half court line. Jean didn’t bother responding. He picked up his racquet and scooped up the ball form where he’d dropped it.

“Ready?” Jean called.

“Let’s go,” Jeremy said.

When they resumed their drills, Jean wasn’t disappointed. Jeremy played like they were in the middle of game night, and even though Jean’s muscles were sore all over he quickly picked up to match Jeremy’s intensity. He kept waiting for Monday’s panic to find him whenever he slipped up, but he seemed to be doing alright for now.

It was the first time he’d really felt  _real_ since Riko’s death, and although he couldn’t decide if what he was feeling was good or bad, it was strong enough to break through his numbness for the duration of their play. He pushed himself until he physically couldn’t anymore, and when he doubled over it was just to catch his breath. Jeremy was grinning at him when he came over and announced that was enough for the day, and Jean felt a flicker of something. He wasn’t where he needed to be, wasn’t even where he’d been with the Ravens, but he could play, and that was enough to at least keep him alive.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone's favorite exy lesbians make an appearance :3c
> 
> this chapter was originally way longer, but i split it in two b/c it was either have two vaguely short chapters or one Really Fucking Long one.

On Saturday, Jean was woken up at a little passed 8:00 in the morning by an insistent tapping on the door. The door to the bedroom was open, so after a moment Jean figured out that the knocking was coming from the front door to the dorm. That confused him for a second, because as far as he knew no one else was still hanging around campus. Jean shot a glance across the room, but Jeremy was still out cold. Jean sighed and slipped out of bed to investigate.

He opened the door to find two women standing outside, one of them with an arm wrapped around the other's waist. He vaguely recognized them as part of the Trojan line, but he couldn’t put names to the faces this early in the morning. A look of surprise flickered across both of their faces for a brief second, before equally blinding smiles made their way onto the girls’ faces. The one woman extricated her arm from around the others’ waist, and the other raised her eyebrows.

One of them, the one with dark skin and long, wavy brown hair, giggled. “Nice hair,” she said, in lieu of a greeting.

Jean blinked. None of this made sense to him fresh out of bed.

“Seriously,” the other girl, the shorter one with very curly hair and even darker skin, said, smirking. “That’s some killer bedhead.”

Jean was about to say something, but then the first girl’s smile broadened even wider and she called out. “Jer! Hi!”

Jean turned, and sure enough Jeremy was making his way out of the bedroom. He yawned widely and came to stand beside Jean. Maybe it was because he was tired, but he perched on of his elbows on Jean’s shoulder for support. It was kind of awkward considering their height difference, but Jeremy seemed too tired to care. Jean didn’t know what to make of it, but he hadn’t flinched or thrown the other boy off, so he decided to file this away to be considered at a later and more coherent hour of the day. Jeremy looked between the two women in the doorway. “Okay, guys, it’s summer. As in, vacation. What are you doing here at this unholy hour of the day?”

“Jet lag, dude. We’ve spent the last couple weeks with Laila’s family two whole timezones away,” the girl reminded him. “It’s, like, eleven to us right now.”

“Yeah, well, it’s barely eight AM here in California,” Jeremy told her.

The other girl spoke up then. “What on Earth are you going to do when practices start up again?”

Jeremy shook his head, but he smiled anyway. “I’m not gonna think about that until I absolutely have to.” He finally took his arm off Jean’s shoulder and ran his hand through his hair. He fidgeted, and seemed to remember Jean was there. “Jean, this is Sara Alvarez and Laila Dermott,” he said, pointing to each girl in turn, before pointing at Jean. “And this is Jean Moreau.”

The first girl waved enthusiastically. “You can just call me Alvarez,” she said.

“There’s another ‘Sarah’ on the team,” the second girl- Laila- explained.

Jean crossed his arms and nodded.

“Nice to meet you,” Alvarez said sincerely in response to his stony silence. “So you’re going to be the other half of my backline now, huh?”

“I suppose so,” Jean agreed.

“Well, I’m stoked as hell to play with you," Alvarez said with a grin. "Jer says you’re kind of a nightmare to play against.”

Jean furrowed his brow. “Nightmare?” He glanced down at Jeremy. “Is that a good thing?”

Alvarez beamed. “Yes!” She exclaimed. “I’m glad you’re on our team now.”

“Anyway,” Jeremy cut in. “Was there a specific reason for you to turn up on our doorstep at this hour?” He asked.

“Yes, actually,” Laila said. “We’re going to the beach today. You guys should come.”

Jeremy yawned again, nodding on the tail end of it. “Yeah, okay, just give me some time to like… Become… more awake.”

Alvarez beamed. “Great! We’ll come pick you up later.” She hugged Jeremy, and her and Laila waved cheery goodbyes.

Jeremy shut the door behind them and turned back to Jean. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped and made a face. He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Nice hair,” he said.

Jean scowled. “That’s what Alvarez said to me. What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It’s, uh… well,” he made a wild sort of gesture at his own head. “I mean, it’s kind of sticking up everywhere.”

Jean frowned and tried to flatten it down with his hands. “Better?”

“Um.” Jeremy tried to hide his smile. “You kind of made it worse.” He reached up, but stopped with his hand hovering in the air between them. “Er, can I?” He asked. Jean hesitated, but eventually nodded. Jeremy reached up and combed his fingers through Jean’s hair a few times until he seemed satisfied. He gave Jean a thumbs up. “Okay, you’re good.” He walked passed Jean back into the bedroom, and Jean turned to watch him go. Jean wasn’t used to touches that didn’t bruise or scar, and he wasn’t sure what to make of this.

 

-

 

Jean had almost forgotten about Alvarez and Laila’s invitation until a few hours later when Alvarez was back, knocking on the dorm room door again. Jean was a bit nervous about going to the beach and spending prolonged time with more of the Trojans, but he figured it might be better to spend time with more of his teammates before the school year started. And the idea of being in the dorm alone was kind of unbearable at the moment. Laila was waiting in the passenger seat of Alvarez’s car, her feet up on the dashboard and one arm hanging out of the window, so Jean and Jeremy got in the backseat.

Jeremy had said once that the girls were intense, and he hadn’t been exaggerating. They were chattier than Jeremy, something that Jean hadn’t thought possible until this point. Laila was quieter than Alvarez, but she was still fairly boisterous and between the two of them and Jeremy the car was never quiet. It took Jean a while to figure out they were dating. That was mostly because their favorite endearment seemed to be "bitch," but it was said with a ridiculous amount of fondness, and the girl's hands were clasped across the space between the front seats for the entire drive.

Jean knew from his constant exposure to Jeremy that the girls texted him several times a day, but somehow they still managed to find about a million questions to throw at their captain on the drive from USC to the beach. They had questions for Jean, too. Jean bristled every time they asked him something even vaguely personal, but they didn’t ask about the Ravens, and mainly kept the conversation to his time in California, and Alvarez demanding he teach her to swear in French. The conversation turned to Exy eventually, and Jean made both girls a little annoyed with brutal commentary about the team, and by making a comment about Laila letting in nine goals against the Foxes in one 45-minute half. But they somehow managed to turn his harsh critiques into a discussion about improving their skills and were happy and excited again in no time. _Fucking Trojans_. They could spin anything into something positive.

The nonstop chitchat was enough to distract Jean until he actually saw the ocean appear out of the car window.

He didn’t have any memories from Marseille. Not real ones, anyway. He only had vague sort of feelings, like the specific orange hue of a sunset over the beach, the warm summer wind on his skin, or that happy rush he got when he was first learning to play Exy as a child. His time in France hadn’t exactly been _good_. Living with criminals indebted to the yakuza for parents wasn’t exactly a fairytale. But when he considered the horrific turn his life had taken after his family’s relocation to New York and he had been shipped off to West Virginia, he could honestly say it was probably the best time in his life. He thought he used to like the beach, although he couldn’t exactly be sure.

Even with all the different states he’d had to travel to for away games, he hadn’t actually seen the ocean since before his parents sold him to the Moriyamas. He was so lost in introspection he didn’t realize he’d fallen completely silent. He hadn’t exactly been talkative up to this point, but he’d at least done his best to answer any direct questions. When he finally snapped out of it and looked away from the view out his window, he realized Laila was looking at him with a raised eyebrow over the back of the passenger seat.

“You got a problem with the beach or something?” Laila asked.

Jean shrugged and looked back out the window as Alvarez parked her car. He opened his door as soon as the car came to a stop to avoid further questions. He noticed his hands were shaking when he shut the door again, so he stuffed them in his pockets to hide his jitteriness.

The rest of the outing wasn’t terrible, but it was all so much that it grated on Jean’s nerves until he felt raw all over. The sun beating down on his skin normally would’ve helped, but with the salty smell of the sea and the sound of waves, he was reminded a little too much of the last real home he’d ever had and only served to further agitate him. He was doing his best at holding it together for the sake of his teammates, but after about an hour someone recognized him. With the number three branded on his face Jean was instantly recognizable to anyone who followed Exy. Even the most casual fans would know his name, with the Ravens being such a high profile team in the world of collegiate sports. Jean’s transfer would’ve been big news. _No one_ left the Ravens, much less one of Riko’s so-called "perfect Court." But Jean was the second to do so in as many years, and he knew how much of a stir that was bound to cause.

The four of them were sitting on a blanket in the sand a little bit up from the waves when Jean took notice of the stares they were getting from a family not too far off. The parents seemed mostly uninterested, but the two teenaged children were talking in hushed voices pointing and shooting glances in the direction of Jean and the others. Eventually the kids get tired of staring from afar, and after one of them shoved the other into motion, the two of them approached the Trojans. Alvarez noticed their approach first and raised one of her eyebrows above the large sunglasses she was wearing.

She shifted a bit, and Laila untangled herself from her girlfriend. “What’s up, kiddos?” Alvarez asked when the strangers got close enough. Jeremy glanced up at them himself, but Jean pointedly looked up at the sky and didn’t pay them any attention.

The younger of the siblings elbowed her older brother in the ribs and he cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry we just— we just thought— is that really _number three_?”

Jean couldn’t help it, his head snapped back to look at the kids. When he did his left cheek and the number branded on it became visible to the children, and the older one took a sharp breath while the younger one whispered “holy crap.”

“Actually, his name’s _Jean_ ,” Alvarez said. She sounded calm enough around the fans, but Jean wondered if he was imagining the slight edge to her voice.

“Sorry,” the older boy said. “Uh, we’re just, _really_ big Raven fans. _Wow_.”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. I play striker on my middle school team. Riko and Kevin Day are like, my heroes,” she babbled. “I swear I cried when I heard about Riko. It’s so sad.”

Jean didn’t answer. He clenched his jaw and tried not to glare at the kids. _It’s not their fault_ , he reminded himself. _They don’t know anything about him, really_. Riko was always careful to present himself as likable to the public eye. The kids didn’t seem to mind his silence, and the boy picked up from his sister. “Why did you and Kevin leave the Ravens? Now none of you are left! The team’s gonna be so screwed without you guys.”

At this point, Jean was sure he was going to lose his cool. He wondered if the Trojans would still want him of he was at the center of a PR nightmare before summer practices even picked up. But, as it happened, Laila beat him to the punch. Laila snorted. “Fuck the Ravens,” she muttered, not looking at the kids but loud enough for them to hear. Both of them turned to look at her, the boy with his mouth open and the girl red cheeked and slightly wide eyed. Alvarez hit Laila in the arm, and Jeremy shot her a look and made a disgruntled noise in his throat. Even Jean stared at her with his eyebrows raised.

Laila noticed the attention from her teammates and shrugged. “Sorry. What I _meant_ was, he’s obviously _way_ better off with us. We’re all gonna be better players with Jean on our line.”

The kids still seemed too stunned to respond, but before they could their mother called them back. “C’mon back, you guys. You’ve bothered them enough.” Shooting a last glance at Jean, the two of them turned and headed back to their family. Jean didn’t watch them go, he was still looking over at Laila.

As soon as they were out of earshot Alvarez gave a short laugh and shoved her girlfriend over into the sand. “Oh my _god_ , babe! I am _so_ telling Coach on you.”

Laila shrugged, dusting sand off her shirt as she sat back up. “Do it. Those kids were rude. And so are the Ravens. Didn’t they check you into the wall, like, six times last time we played?”

Alvarez made a face and rubbed at her ribs like she was remembering the pain of having her body crushed against plexiglass. “I couldn’t even go back on for second half because my ribs were bruised so badly and my nose wouldn’t stop bleeding.”

“Exactly. They suck.” Laila looked up at Jean and made a face. “No offense or anything. But I mean, you show up with your face looking like that and after that investigation in March I’m assuming you don’t mind me shit-talking your old team.”

Jean looked away briefly, but finally turned back to Laila when he found the courage to meet her eyes. He didn’t know how he felt about her assumptions, but the fact that she’d come to his defense so quickly was something. It was a lot to deal with, and with his nerves already frayed he didn’t have the energy to talk about the Ravens in any capacity. “And here I was thinking you Trojans didn’t know how to shit-talk anyone,” his voice sounded shaky even to him, and he _hated_ it, but he couldn’t find the energy to control it.

 

-

 

The girls drove Jeremy and Jean back to the dorm not long after their little encounter at the beach, and they spent the rest of the day in the dorm. They didn’t see Laila and Alvarez again until Tuesday, when they joined Jean and Jeremy on the court. Jeremy wanted Alvarez and Jean to take turns on the court, complaining about unfair scrimmages, since there were now three defense players against one striker, but Jean said if Jeremy was worth his contract he should be able to hold his own against them, and Alvarez was too impatient to get to know Jean’s playing style.

It went okay until the end of their practice, when Alvarez asked for honest feedback. She was a good player, they all were, but they didn’t play with the Raven synchronicity and Jean had been trained to pick out every flaw, no matter how incremental. Jean didn’t hesitate to point out said flaws, and she seemed genuinely glad to receive every bitterly harsh assessment of her skills. It set Jean’s teeth on edge, and only made his tongue sharper. But he couldn’t seem to rattle any of the three of them, and in a way he hated them for it. The only time they ever had any complaints was when Jean got a little too pushy or violent, when he acted too much like a Raven. Jeremy declared he wouldn’t tolerate any Raven strategies or attitudes on his court, but that didn’t mean Jean could just magically adjust his entire mindset overnight. He’d been a part of a brutal hive mind for years, that wasn’t something one recovered from so easily. It was hard as hell and put a lot of tension in Jean’s shoulders.

The girls joined them on the court everyday for the rest of the week, and it didn’t get any easier. The Trojans’ sunshine-y optimism was almost too much for him already, and he was only dealing with three of them. On top of that, Jean still wasn’t where he needed to be. His aim was slightly off, he wasn’t putting nearly enough strength behind his shots, and there were moments where panic threatened to overwhelm him like it had that first disastrous day on the court. By the time Friday came around, Jean was all wired nerves and anxious energy.

Jean left the dorm alone for the first time that night.

It hadn’t been his intention. He’d gotten into bed fairly early, but he hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Instead he’d sat and stewed over his own inadequacies on the court and off it. He was furious with himself and annoyed with the Trojans and annoyed with himself for _being_ annoyed with the Trojans. Riko’s ghost had been hanging over his head the entire evening as he replayed all the mistakes he’d made on court. Every missed shot and lost point made his skin itch.

Jean knew Jeremy kept his keys on the coffee table in the living room, so after he was sure his roommate was asleep, he’d grabbed them and left. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing until he was almost to the stadium. He ran the rest of the way to the court, and letting himself in proved to be a challenge since his hands shook with violent tremors from being alone. The drive to play was really the only thing that stopped him from losing it entirely. If he was on the court, being alone wouldn’t be so bad, so he changed out in record time and practically ran from the locker room to the inner court. He found what he needed in the gear closet: a bucket of balls, and a stack of orange cones.

He’d perfected all the Raven’s drills years ago, before he was even eligible for the line, but he was so out of shape he wasn’t sure how he’d do on them now.

He spaced the cones out evenly on the half-court line, and started moving through the drills. On his first go around, he was terrible. He only hit three out of the six cones he’d set out, and his shots weren’t even rebounding off the right spot. He kept hitting balls until he’d knocked over all six of them, and set them up to go again. He hit four of them this time, but it took him almost half an hour before he was able to knock over all six cones on the first try. Without the master around to call out numbers, Jean hit them from one end of the row to the other. When he was finally able to successfully knock over all six cones, he set them up to go again, and after that he lost himself in the game. He knew he should move onto trickier drills, but he wasn’t knocking over the cones with as much force as he intended, so he kept going with the cones.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he was startled out of his trance. A loud pounding on the court wall made him jump so hard his feet nearly cleared the ground. He wheeled around, and was somehow unsurprised to find Jeremy standing on the inner court. Jean’s heart was pounding out of his chest and he realized his muscles were aching with a ferocity after pushing himself for far. He stood still as a statue and stared Jeremy down for a moment, until the last ball he’d hit rolled to a stop near his foot. Finally, Jeremy came to the door and stepped onto the court. He crossed to where Jean was and stood in front of him, barely six inches away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jeremy asked, his face a mixture of disbelief and worry.

Jean considered him for a moment. He was too exhausted for anything but the truth. “Raven drills,” he admitted.

“Raven drills.” Jeremy repeated. “ _Raven drills_ , at three in the morning. Jesus Christ, Jean.”

“I need more practice,” Jean told him, tightening his grip on his racquet.

“So you sneak off to the court in the middle of the damn night to do Raven drills,” Jeremy still sounded completely gobsmacked by the idea. Sometimes Jean forgot that not everyone ran on 16-hour days. “You scared the hell out of me, honestly.” His voice was almost shaky, but what was causing that was a mystery to Jean.

“How did you know I was here?” Jean asked.

“Good guess, I suppose. I wake up in the middle of the night to find you _and_ my keys gone. It only made sense that you’d be here.” Jeremy shook his head. “Oh, thanks for that, by the way. I had to walk here, you know. My car keys are on that keychain.”

Jean shrugged. “I walked here. It wasn’t so bad.”

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and closed it again. He looked away to consider the cones scattering the court floor. “I thought Ravens couldn’t go anywhere alone,” he finally said.

“I thought I wasn’t a Raven anymore,” Jean countered. He still couldn't quite make himself believe that, but he knew it would get the most reaction out of Jeremy, and he was right.

Jeremy turned back to face him with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “Yeah, you’re damn right you’re not. Which brings up another good point. I seem to recall a strict ban on Raven shit on this court. That includes crazy drills and neglecting your own well being to practice at all hours of the night.”

“It’s the only way for me to improve,” Jean told him, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.

“Bullshit,” Jeremy responded. “We’re practicing almost everyday, and if that isn’t enough, you can do Trojan drills.”

“Your drills won’t get me where I need to be.” Jean said. “Raven drills are all about honing every aspect of your game to perfection. They are the only exercises worth my time.”

Jeremy sighed. “I think you’re wrong,” he said. “You can be good enough without being a Raven. I’m not letting that crap on my court, Jean. End of story. If you really don’t think you’re getting enough practice with me and the girls, then… We can make up our own drills.”

Jean blinked. “Make up our own drills?” He repeated slowly.

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. If the two of us put our heads together, I’m sure we can come up with better strategies than the Ravens ever did. We can even make them scary difficult, but without all that shady Raven junk hanging over our heads.”

Jean had not expected an offer like this. He looked over at the home goal, then slowly brought his gaze back to Jeremy. He wasn’t sure why the offer seemed to knock his feet out from under him, but eventually he nodded slowly. Better than to agree than to have to sneak out to practice and worry about being interrupted again. Jeremy wasn’t Riko, was about as _Not Riko_ as any human being could be, but he was still the captain of his team and Jean figured it was best to go along with this.

Jeremy finally relaxed and smiled. “Good. We can get started on tomorrow, because practices start in a week and my sleep schedule is already fucked enough as it is. Let’s go back to the dorm and, like, sleep, okay?”

“Fine,” Jean reluctantly agreed. Jeremy helped him pick up all the cones and balls and put everything away, and waited for him in the team room when he showered. He was drifting off when Jean found him, and he had to put a hand on his shoulder to wake him up. They walked back across campus to the dorms in silence, Jean’s focus switching between on the sky above them and Jeremy walking next to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Jean slept in the next day. After coming back from the court, he hadn’t managed to fall asleep until the sun started coming up. He’d been used to that sort of thing in the Nest, and it was usually followed by a brutally early wake up call, but when Jean woke up the next day it was almost noon. Jean had to do a double take when he looked over at the clock. He hadn’t slept that late in years, and it sent a cold shiver of anxiety down his spine.

He made his way to the main room and found Jeremy sitting on the floor between the couch and the coffee table with a notebook in front of him. He looked up when Jean entered and smiled. “Good morning,” he said.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Jean demanded.

“You seemed like you needed your sleep,” Jeremy said. “You kinda looked dead on your feet last night.”

“I’d prefer not to waste my day asleep next time,” Jean told him, crossing his arms. “We ran on sixteen-hour days at Edgar Allen, I can handle a little missed sleep.”

“I told you, there’s not gonna be a next time.” Jeremy responded. “If you want, I’ll make sure you don’t sleep so late in the future, but I’m not going to enable your unhealthy Raven habits. Now hey, c’mere. I already have some new ideas for drills.” He waved Jean over with his hand, picking up the notebook on the coffee table.

Jean joined him, sitting on the floor on the other side of the table, and reached out to grab the notebook. As he read over Jeremy’s notes, Jeremy talked and explained his ideas further. In turn, Jean explained every Raven drill in detail. Jeremy liked some of the drills, but he was still adamant about keeping Raven strategies off the Trojan court, so they worked on implementing Trojan footwork and ideas into existing drills until they were modified enough to be their own unique plays. Jeremy was especially interested in drills that would increase stamina; after watching the Foxes last season, Jeremy wanted everyone on his team able to play full halves. Jean thought it was pointless, since the Trojans had almost thirty people on their lineup, but he went along with it anyway. It was actually a nice way to spend the afternoon, engaging in a way that distracted Jean from his disastrous internal state for a while, and by the end of it both of them were practically itching to put some of their new ideas into play.

It was Sunday, and although Jeremy usually reserved the weekends for being lazy and lounging around the dorm, he made an exception today and he and Jean rode over to the court. That practice lasted a solid three hours, and by the time it ended Jean was exhausted enough he at least didn’t feel insecure or panicky, and Jeremy was grinning from ear to ear. They went back on Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday the first of the Trojans would be moving back into the dorms and Jeremy said he wanted to be around to greet them. The team was supposed to filter in gradually over the weekend, and the first team meeting was set for 8:00 AM the following Monday, with summer practices officially starting on Tuesday. It was strange for Jean to think he’d already been in California almost a month. In a way it’d been the longest month of his life, but in a way it had flown by, since 16 hour days always made time drag by agonizingly slow back at Evermore.

As more and more Trojans found their way back to campus, Jean found himself retreating to the bedroom with increasing frequency. Jeremy was the team captain, so various members of the team kept coming up to stop by and see him for social visits and to talk about the season. Jean didn’t quite want to interact with any of them before he had to, so he would hide out in the back room watching matches on Jeremy’s laptop or reading some of the few books he’d acquired since leaving the Nest. At first he’d tried to be less of a recluse, but the younger Trojans seemed intimidated by being around a former Raven and the older ones were either overly friendly or wary of him. They all tried to be nice, because they were _Trojans_ , but the Ravens had never toned down their brutal and violent playing style, even for the sweethearts of Exy, so Jean couldn’t exactly blame them for being cautious around an old rival.

Alvarez and Laila, who’d been staying with Alvarez’s family in town for the past two weeks, moved back to the dorms on Saturday, and spent most of the day after moving all their stuff into their room in Jeremy and Jean’s dorm. Jean was almost used to their presence at this point, so he was able to actually spend some time not being a hermit and socialize with the pair of them and Jeremy.

On Sunday, Jean fought off a panic attack and didn’t speak a word to anyone, even Jeremy. He couldn’t sleep that night, too busy thinking about meeting all the Trojans, together, in their court. _Our court_ , he tried to remind himself. It was his too. He wasn’t the enemy anymore. He did get to sleep eventually, although it was fitful, and he dreamed of Riko.

He woke up to the sound of an alarm clock after too few hours of sleep, but it took him a couple tries before he found the strength to get out of bed. Jeremy didn’t seem too keen on getting up anytime soon. He made a noise that was stifled by his pillow and reached out to hit snooze on his alarm without even looking up at it. Jean gave him until he got out of the shower and finished getting ready for the day before deciding to do something about his sleepy roommate. He crossed the room and pulled the blankets off of Jeremy, dumping them in a heap on the floor. That was enough to startle Jeremy into waking momentarily, and he looked up at Jean with his hair in his face and a look of utter confusion.

“Why?” He asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

“We need to leave soon,” Jean said. “Team meeting.”

“Ugh,” Jeremy groaned, finally sitting up and rubbing his hand over his face.

Jean left him there like that and went out to the living room to wait on the couch for Jeremy. When Jeremy finally joined him, he still looked tired as hell but he was dressed and had his keychain in his hands. That was probably as ready as he was going to get. Although he still looked dead on his feet when they left the dorm, he’d perked up and looked excited by the time they reached the stadium. There were more cars in the parking lot than Jean had seen so far, so he figured a good deal of the team had already arrived.

Jean took a deep breath and steeled himself. He opened the passenger door and stepped out into the warm California morning. Jeremy got out of the car and locked the doors behind him before coming to stand beside Jean. “Ready for this?” Jeremy asked gently.

Jean eyed the stadium with some unease, but he nodded. Jeremy smiled and started towards the door to the court. In a brief and regrettable display of weakness, Jean reached up and caught a hold of Jeremy’s sleeve. His fingers bunched in the fabric, and he held tightly on as he followed at Jeremy’s side. If Jeremy had any reaction, he didn’t show it, just continued on with Jean staring at the ground. Jean had stopped trying to hide just how _Not Okay_ he was from Jeremy. It wasn’t exactly that he trusted him; Jean didn’t think he could really trust anyone anymore at this point in his life, but he’d already given up so much to Jeremy that any more wouldn’t make a bit of difference.

He let go at the court door. Just because Jeremy knew how much of a wreck he was didn’t mean the rest of the team could. Jeremy glanced at him and smiled encouragingly on the way into the locker room. The team room was already packed with about 20 people. There were various kids sprawled out across the chairs and couches, and Rhemann was deep in discussion with three other people about his age, who Jean figured were probably the Trojans three other coaches.

Alvarez, who was practically sitting in Laila’s lap on one of the couches, was the first to spot the latest arrivals. She grinned and waved them over. “Jean! Jeremy!” She called in cheery greeting. “Get over here, we saved you a seat.”

Jean would’ve been happy to just stay where he was, standing by the door, but in the end he figured he’d probably draw more attention that way than if he actually went to sit with the girls. He made his way over, flicking glances at a couple of his new teammates as he went. Jeremy got caught up as almost everyone seemed to want to say hi to him before the meeting started, but Jean didn’t slow on his way to the couch. He left a space open between himself and where the girls were stacked on top of each other, and Laila and Alvarez grinned at him.

“Good morning,” Alvarez chirped at him. Jean nodded at her in response. A couple minutes later, Jeremy flopped down onto the cushion between them.

Even though the team meeting was supposed to start at 8:00, it was almost 8:30 before all of the Trojans had arrived. Jean expected a reprimand of same kind from the coaches, but none of them even looked surprised. In fact, all Rhemann did was smile and nod when the last of the group walked through the door. There were hardly enough chairs for everyone, and a couple kids had to sit on the arms of couches or squash two to a seat, but none of them seemed to mind. Jean thought back to the Ravens intense levels of synchrony and perfectly aligned poses and compared it to the this, the Trojans all piled into the room wherever they can fit, slouching and laughing and jostling each other.

He was so distracted by the thought he didn’t realize Rhemann had started talking. Jean blinked and turned his attention to the head coach. Rhemann started by making a few general introductions. On top of Jean, the Trojans also had some new freshmen recruits this year, to replace the students who’d graduated in May. Rhemann rattled off their names and positions and they got a few welcoming greetings around the room. Jean himself got quite a few looks when Rhemann explained who their new starting backliner was. Some of them looked curious, a good deal of them were smiling, and to Jean's surprise almost no one looked skeptical or worried. He rattled off the names of the rest of the team to get Jean and the new freshmen up to speed, but there were a lot of names and Jean was already starting to forget them and mix them up.

Rhemann moved on to talk about their upcoming practice schedule. Jeremy jumped in at that and started going over various “team bonding” activities he wanted to do this season, but Rhemann just rolled his eyes and told him to sort that out on his own time. What he said after that was lost on Jean, because he was completely bewildered that someone had just interrupted the coach and not received some sort of violent retribution. No one interrupted the mast- _Tetsuji_ like that. Even Riko ( _especially_ Riko) knew to keep silent while he was talking.

But Rhemann just went on with the meeting like this was a normal occurrence. Eventually, he finished up, and asked if the team had anything to add before dismissing them. The defense coach, a woman named Shaney Campos who was almost as tall as Jean was himself, wanted to meet with her line before they left. Laila and Alvarez and the rest of the returning Trojans greeted her like an old friend, all smiles and even some hugs, and she introduced herself to Jean and the new freshean with a smile and a firm handshake.

Half the team had already left by the time she was done with them. Jean had gotten so used to Jeremy’s company that as soon as he’d been dismissed he sought him out. Jeremy was leaning against the wall across the room, chatting with a couple other strikers, but when he caught Jean’s eye he smiled and waved him over. Jean went to stand by his side, stuffing his hands in his pockets just to have something to do with them. Eventually the other strikers filtered out to get on with their day, and Jeremy leaned into Jean, nudging his arm with his shoulder. Every time Jeremy did something like that, Jean swore his heart almost stopped. It would take Jean a while to get used to being touched casually and without malicious intent.

“So?” Jeremy said, smiling up at Jean.

Jean shrugged. “So what?”

“What do you think?”

“I think all of you are too cheerful for your own good.”

Jeremy laughed. “Give it time, you’ll learn to love it.”

Jean made a face. “Maybe.”

 

-

 

Practice the next day was terrible. The Trojans didn’t play with any of the Raven synchrony, or any type of synchrony at all. They were rowdy and loud and all over the place, and Jean felt himself completely shutting down. They were good players, and they communicated better than most teams, but Jean had no idea how to be a part of a team where the players functioned as individuals instead of just moving parts of a well-oiled whole. Jean didn’t say a word to anyone. In fact, he didn’t speak at all the entire first week of practices. Even when he got back to the dorm, and it was just him and Jeremy, he stayed quiet. He was focusing all his energy on not slipping back to the Nest whenever he shut his eyes, so he had nothing left for conversation.

Jean didn’t actually say a word until Friday night, and that was only because Renee called him. Renee texted him almost everyday, and he usually got back to her, but he’d been ignoring her since Wednesday. He knew she had to be getting worried at this point. Jean was sitting on his bed with his phone on the desk when the call came through. The first time she called, he let it go to voicemail, but Renee was persistent and called back.

Jean finally crossed the room to pick up his phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jean,” Renee said sweetly.

“Hello, Renee,” Jean said. Even he could hear how tired his voice sounded.

“How are you doing?” She asked. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I’ve missed talking to you.”

Jean waited a beat before replying. “I’m sorry. It’s been… A tiring week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said sincerely. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jean shrugged, even though she couldn’t actually see him. “It’s… I don’t know.” He sighed. He couldn’t place what had grated on him so much this week. “It’s the team. They’re so… positive, all the time. And they’re… Not like the Ravens.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Renee asked.

“It probably should be,” Jean admitted. “Logically I know it is. But…”

Renee made a soft sound of agreement. “I get it. Trauma and recovery aren’t logical things. But I really do think this is going to be good for you. Give it time.”

 _Give it time_. That’s what Jeremy kept saying to him. But the more time he spent here, the more sure he was that this was a trap. It had to come crashing down at some point. Renee continued on. “Maybe you should talk to someone, Jean. A counselor or a psychiatrist.”

He was pretty sure he was too much for any psychiatrist to handle, and he wasn’t sure how he could even talk to one without bringing up the Moriyamas, but Renee was usually right. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Jean could hear the smile in her voice when Renee replied. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

Renee was always so serene, Jean almost felt calmer talking to her. “How have you been?” He asked her.

“I’ve been well,” Renee said, and continued on after a brief pause. “Allison came to stay with me for the last couple weeks of break.” Her tone shifted and softened when she mentioned the Foxes’ defensive dealer, and Jean almost smiled himself. “It was very nice,” Renee concluded softly.

“Oh, how lovely,” Jean said, his tone all mock-innocence. He really had no idea how to do this whole ‘friendship’ thing, considering the only ‘friend’ he’d ever really had was Kevin, but even he knew how to tease a friend about a crush. “I’m sure that was _very_ _nice_.”

Renee laughed gently on the other end of the line. “It was,” she confirmed again, chosing to ignore the accusatory tone.

They went on to talk about the Foxes. Apparently there was already tension with some of the new freshmen, and Renee chided him when he asked her what else she could possibly expect from a team like the Foxes. Eventually Renee shifted the conversation back to Jean.

“So, how are things with Jeremy? Is he a good roommate?” Renee asked him eventually.

“Things are fine. He’s…” Jean made a face, glad Jeremy was out in the kitchen cooking dinner right now. “He’s… nice enough,” he admitted. He paused, debating whether or not to say what he was really thinking. “He's making it easier.”

The line was quiet for a few seconds, but finally Renee responded. “I’m really glad to hear that,” she said.

Jean was about to respond when Jeremy himself poked his head in the door. “Hey, I—" He stopped when Jean turned to face him and he noticed Jean was on the phone. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “I made dinner, if you’re hungry,” he said, be quickly retreated back to the living room.

Jean watching him go before he got back to Renee. “Renee? I have to go,” Jean said.

“Alright. It was nice talking to you, Jean.”

“You, too,” Jean said. “Goodbye, Renee.”

“Goodbye,” she said. “Have a nice night.” She hung up, and Jean tossed his phone onto his pillow. He felt a little more steady after talking to Renee, so he went out to the main room and grabbed a plate of the stir-fry Jeremy had made. Indeed of going back to the bedroom, Jean went over and sat on the far end of the couch from Jeremy. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Jeremy looked at him and smiled widely. “No problem, dude.”

 

-

 

The weekend was a nice reprieve, and Jean thought maybe things could get better, but the second week of practices was almost worst than the first. Jean barely spoke to anyone during scrimmages, and when he did it was usually just to make a snide remark about certain plays. Aside from that, he was a stony pillar of silence. On Wednesday, however, he finally snapped and shouted at the group of Trojans he’d been assigned to play drills with. It wasn’t that they were doing particularly bad. Sure, the freshmen were sloppy, and they weren’t as good as the Ravens, but the Trojans were one of the best teams in the country and they played like it, even in practices. It was just more of their endless positivity, and their style of unsynchronized play rubbed him raw until he finally broke. It was odd that a team so un-Raven like would make him think of nothing but the Ravens, but then again there wasn’t much that didn’t have him seeing black and blood-red every time he blinked.

His yelling was met with a chorus of unimpressed stares. In goal, Laila crossed her arms, a task which was awkward with her oversized racquet in her hand. “Okay, great,” she said, staring him down like his outburst was the most boring thing she’d ever witnessed. “Did that honestly help though? No? Cool. Let’s play.”

On Thursday Jean had to leave the court for a good half an hour. He sat on a bench in the locker room, his teeth gritted and his face in his hands, until he finally got up the nerve to return to play. No one had anything to say about his sudden storm off or his prolonged absence, and they integrated him back onto the court with enthusiasm. He wanted to see what it took to get under their skin, but no matter what he did they just absorbed and accepted it and kept on going.

When the weekend finally came, Jean spent almost the entire day Saturday and Sunday asleep, exhausted from his terrible week and kept up at night by the darkness that sent him right back to Evermore.

The next week wasn’t much better, but by now Jean was getting used to things, so it was easier for him to contain his outbursts and funnel any excess anger or anxiety into making his plays more powerful. He was positive he didn’t belong here. He was so unlike any of his teammates. Why Jeremy had agreed to take him in was beyond him, and he was starting to wonder if he’d even last the year at USC.

A month after practices started, about midway into July, Jean finally reached his breaking point. He wasn’t sure what did it, but by the end of afternoon practices on Friday Jean was a jittery and angry wreck. He made it to the changing room before any of the rest of the team and stripped out of his court gear as fast as he could. The idea of being alone might be completely out of the question, but the idea of being around the entire team wasn’t something he could stomach at the moment either. He showered and changed in record time and slipped out of the stadium before the rest of the team had even finished changing. He found Jeremy’s car in the parking lot and, when he found the doors locked, sat on the curb by the passenger side and texted Renee while he waited. As usual, she was happy to play sounding board for all of Jean’s emotional baggage. He was really starting to consider her idea of seeing someone, if only because the guilt of burdening Renee alone with everything was starting to eat at him. She was nice enough not to tell him to fuck off, but he didn’t want to push away the only friend he had.

He didn’t even notice Jeremy’s arrival until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin. He cursed, quietly but with a lot of feeling, annoyed with himself more than anything. He heard Jeremy curse, too.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve- Fuck. My bad.”

Jean got to his feet. He looked at Jeremy and saw worry written all over his features. He shook his head. “Can we just go back to the dorm now?” He asked, his voice a little shaky.

Jeremy nodded and got the car unlocked, and Jean got in as soon as he did, staring out the window on the drive back across campus.

 

-

 

Jean was tense all afternoon, but things got really bad that night when it was dark in the dorm. The light was still on in the bedroom, but it wasn’t enough. The window in there was too small, the space too cramped, and he knew as soon as the overhead light went out the only thing he’d be able to see would be Evermore. To try and postpone the inevitable, he went back out into the main room and sat on the floor in front of the window. There was too much light pollution and smog to really see the stars, but the ones he could see kind of broke something inside him. Instead of feeling tense, Jean was just tired. Tired of the Nest and Riko haunting him, tired of not being able to make things work with his new team, tired of not being good enough. He was fucking exhausted. He shut his eyes and leaned forward over his knees, trying to get his breath under control.

His cheeks felt hot and his eyes were starting to sting, but he forced himself to _calm the fuck down_ before he actually started crying. That would be completely unforgivable and he wouldn’t be able to handle himself.

Of course Jeremy came to check on him, because for some unfathomable reason Jeremy seemed to genuinely worry about Jean. Jean heard him come into the living room, but he didn’t turn to look at him. He didn’t want to take his eyes off all that sky above the endless cityscape of Los Angeles.

“Hey,” Jeremy began from somewhere behind Jean, and waited a beat before continuing. At this point he was used to Jean’s stony silences. “Look, um—“

But before he could go on, Jean cut him off. “There were no windows in the Nest,” Jean started, and he could almost feel Jeremy tense up from all the way across the room. “I lived underground for ten years of my life without a single fucking window. It was like being trapped in a black hole and everyone and everything was against me. It was suffocating.”

He waited for Jeremy to say anything, but when he was met with only silence he went on. He wasn’t sure what was causing the sudden and unwarranted honesty, but if there was anyone in California he could trust with this, it was Jeremy. “I used to go months without even seeing the sky. When I was a kid, before I started attending Edgar Allen, I hardly ever even got to leave Castle Evermore. At least Kevin and Riko got to attend the Raven’s away games, but I was-“ He couldn’t say ‘I was property.’ That wasn’t something normal people outside of his fucked up world could understand. “I wasn’t important enough. They left me there, underground.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again Jeremy was sitting down to sit at his side. Jean couldn’t look at him yet, so he just bulled on. “It was so fucking dark down there. I never thought I’d see light again.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “When they finally started letting me out, even when it was just for a few hours, I always made sure to look up at the sky before going back in. I never knew when I’d get to see it again.

“Sometimes I thought I’d forget what it looked like, and sometimes—” he was about to pass the point of no return, but fuck it. He was in too deep already, might as well go under completely. “Sometimes when Riko was as his worst, and I wasn’t sure if I’d even make it to the morning, I’d just think about how I’d never get to see the sun or the sky again. I thought I’d die in that black fucking hole.”

He clenched his fingers around his legs and hugged his knees close to his chest. “You can’t understand what a fucking miracle this stupid goddamn window is to me. Being able to see the sky whenever I want is…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “And I can’t even fucking appreciate it, because I can’t get the Nest out of my fucking head.”

When Jean finished, he took a deep, shaky breath and leaned his forehead down on his knees with his eyes closed. The silence stretched out so long Jean wondered if Jeremy had just gone to bed, but when he shot a quick glance to his right Jeremy was still sitting right there. Jean didn’t look long enough to decipher whatever look was on his face.

“Jean…” Jeremy finally said. “I—" He cut himself off and cleared his throat. He was quiet for another minute, and his voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “ten years. Jesus Christ.” Jean looked over at him, but now Jeremy was staring out the window. Eventually he turned back to Jean, and he reached a hand towards him. He dropped it half way there, likely remembering how hard Jean had flinched earlier that afternoon.

Jean sighed. “It’s okay,” he said, nodding at Jeremy’s hand.

Jeremy seemed to consider that a minute before he reached out again and wrapped his arm loosely around Jean’s shoulders. Jeremy’s skin was warm, and Jean was struck not for the first time with Jeremy’s likeness to the sun. Jeremy was the type of person who was made to be bathed in sunlight. The sun loved Jeremy so much it left a little bit of itself inside him. Jean dropped his face into his hands but leaned into the touch, and let Jeremy pull him closer until Jean was tucked comfortably into Jeremy’s side. He let his head fall onto Jeremy’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Jeremy rubbed his hand over Jean’s shoulder, and it was surprisingly comforting.

They sat like that for a while. Jean tried not to be disappointed when Jeremy finally pulled away. “Wait here for a second, okay?” Jeremy said. “I’ll be right back.”

Jean nodded, and Jeremy stood up and walked back to the bedroom. A minute later he was back, and he had a wad of blankets in his arms. He dropped them on the couch and pushed the coffee table against the wall by the TV so it would be out of the way. He went back to the bedroom and grabbed more blankets, along with some pillows this time. He deposited them in the middle of the living room floor and met Jean’s questioning stare with a small smile. “You can’t exactly see the stars very well from here, but I figure sleeping out here is about as close as you can get to sleeping under the sky when you live in the middle of LA.”

Jean wasn’t sure he liked how Jeremy always seemed to know how to make things seem _easier_. He got up and helped Jeremy arrange the blankets into a nice little nest in the middle of the floor in silence. When they were done, and Jeremy turned to go again, Jean felt his chest tighten a little. He reached out and caught Jeremy’s wrist before he could leave, and looked away before Jeremy could meet his eyes. “Wait,” he said. “It’s stupid, and I know it’s just one room away but, I don't—“ He shook his head, and had to physically force the next words out of his lips. “I can’t be alone.”

“It’s okay, dude, I was just going to get my pillow.”

Jean looked up to see Jeremy’s soft little smile. He nodded and let go of Jeremy’s wrist, and even though he was only gone a moment it was still hard for Jean not to follow him into the bedroom. He had no idea how he’d handle attending classes by himself this fall if just being in a room alone overwhelmed him so much.

Before he could dwell on that too long, Jeremy returned. “Sometime we should go somewhere we can really see the stars. We might have to get out of the city, but it seems like you’d enjoy stargazing.”

Jean considered that for a moment. “Stargazing,” he repeated.

“Yeah, you’ll love it.” Jeremy said. “We can go next weekend.”

Jean nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

 

-

 

Waking up the next morning was like waking up the morning after a hurricane. He had to assess the damage and repair and recover what he could, but he also had to accept that perhaps some things were irreversible. The damage was done and he couldn’t go back. When Jean first opened his eyes, it took him a moment to reorient himself to his surroundings. He’d almost forgot that he’d fallen asleep in a makeshift blanket nest on the living room floor. It was light outside the window, but just barely. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the rosy pinks and oranges on the horizon surely meant it would be rising soon.

Jean debated on getting up and starting the day, but he eventually decided against it. Jean had learned after two months of sharing a dorm room with Jeremy that he liked to sprawl out when he slept. That was all well and good when he was all the way across the room on his own bed, but when he was passed out a couple feet from Jean, things got a little awkward. Jeremy had shifted closer to Jean in the night, and one of his legs was tangled up with Jean’s. One of his shoulders was close enough to Jean’s that he could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

In the end, Jean decided he’d just go back to sleep and deal with this when the sun was up.


	6. Chapter 6

On Sunday morning, Laila and Alvarez showed up at the dorm before 8:00. Of course Jeremy was still asleep. He didn’t wake up before ten unless he absolutely had to. Jean didn’t know how he could sleep through Alvarez’s incessant knocking. She rapped on the front door for several minutes before Jean finally made his way out to investigate. The girls both smiled when he opened the door, and Jean raised his eyebrows. “Déjà vu,” he said, recalling the first time he’d met the pair of them.

“Yeah, except this time your hair’s not sticking up all over the place,” Laila commented.

“Unfortunately.” Alvarez said with a frown.

Jean leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “What’s up?” He asked.

“We’re taking you out to breakfast.” Laila responded, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, you are? Funny, I feel like I should’ve been told about this.” Jean knit his eyebrows together in mock-confusion.

“You were!” Alvarez exclaimed. “Just now. Don’t you remember? It was like, three seconds ago. C’mon, keep up, dude. There’s this great diner down the street. I can’t believe we haven’t taken you there yet.”

Jean looked over his shoulder. “Jeremy is still asleep,” he told them. “I doubt he’ll want to go out this early.”

“Let him sleep,” Laila said, waving her hand dismissively. “We’re here for you, kid. Jeremy’s no fun in the morning anyway.”

This time, the confusion on his face was all real. “Wait, what? Why?”

Both women sent him an incredulous look. “Why?” Alvarez repeated. “Because you’ve barely spoken a word to us outside of practices for the past month, and it’s very hard to maintain a friendship with someone when the only communication you have with them is having them shout at you across an Exy court.”

“Yeah, we miss your biting sarcastic comments and cold stare-downs,” Laila added with a smirk.

Jean hadn’t realized until this moment that the girls might consider him a friend. As far as he was concerned, they were _Jeremy’s_ friends, and he tagged along with them because of his inability to be alone. It was enough of a shock to the system that Jean finally nodded his head. “… Okay. I’ll go get changed.”

Alvarez beamed. “Good. Hurry!”

Jean went back to the bedroom to grab some fresh clothes. He changed out, slipping into his shoes on his way back to the living room. He left a note for Jeremy on the magnetic dry erase board they kept on the fridge before heading out and locking the door behind him. Alvarez hooked one arm around his shoulders while keeping the other firmly around Laila, and turned to walk between them to the elevator.

“So how’s your weekend going?” Alvarez asked, nudging her hip into Jean’s while they rode the elevator down to the lobby.

Jean shrugged. The truth was complicated, so he just said, “Fine. Yours?”

“Oh, just lovely,” Alvarez said, sending a little smirk and a wink at Laila.

Jean made a face and the girls giggled. Even though it was still technically summer vacation, there was already a decent amount of cars parked outside the dorms and Alvarez’s light blue Jeep was a few rows back from the building itself. Laila piled into the passenger seat, so Jean got in the back and stared awkwardly out the window as Alvarez drove them to a dumpy looking little diner about five minutes out from campus. They sat down in a squashy booth near the back, and a waitress came by to take their order. Jean made a face when Alvarez ordered chocolate chip pancakes and Laila ordered waffles with extra whipped cream.

“What is it with you Trojans and sweets?” Jean asked after the waitress left. “I swear Jeremy adds chocolate to ninety percent of what he cooks.”

Alvarez giggled and Laila smirked. “We’re sweet people, Jean. Haven’t you heard you are what you eat?” Laila said.

Jean frowned. “So that means you have to exclusively eat candy and garbage?”

This time, both the girls laughed. “See, I missed this,” Alvarez said. “Only you could blatantly insult me and make me laugh by doing it. Well, you and Laila.”

Jean shook his head. “You two are strange women.” At that moment, Jean’s phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was a good morning text from Renee, which Jean returned. When he set his phone down on the table, the girls were considering him. “Yes?” He asked.

“Are you dating Renee Walker?” Alvarez asked.

The question was so completely out of the blue and unexpected all Jean could do was blink stupidly. “What?”

“I’m curious,” Laila said, ignoring the elbow Alvarez drove into her side.

“Why would you think that?” Jean asked.

“You text her all the time. From what I can tell she’s the only person you talk to regularly, even when you shut the rest of us out.”

“Well.” Jean actually let out a startled sort of laugh. “She did kind of save my life,” Jean said by way of explanation.

“So is that a yes, or…?” Laila prodded.

Normally he wouldn’t have dignified that with a response, but for some reason he didn’t want them getting the wrong impression. He wondered if Jeremy thought he and Renee’s relationship was anything more than platonic and shook his head. “No. Definitely not. I’m fairly certain Renee is dating the Foxes defensive dealer.”

“The defensive dealer,” Alvarez mused, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. “Which one is that?”

“Reynolds,” Jean said.

“Reynolds. _Allison_ Reynolds? Oh, really? Wow.” Alvarez gave an appreciative little nod. “She’s hot. Nice pull, Renee.”

It was Laila’s turn to elbow Alvarez in the ribs. “Wow. Thanks, bitch.”

Alvarez grinned broadly at her girlfriend. “Don’t worry, she's not as hot as you. And don’t try to pretend you wouldn’t hit that.”

Laila shrugged. “Whatever.”

They dropped the conversation when the waitress returned with their order, and things quieted down while they ate. Luckily, the girls moved onto other topics when they did start the conversation up again.

Alvarez still seemed insistent that Jean teach her French curse words, and when he wouldn’t oblige she settled for asking him to name various objects on the table in French and then repeating them back and utterly butchered the pronunciation. Jean eventually figured out she was doing so on purpose, because every time she did Laila smiled and giggled.

“How long have you lived here?” Alvarez eventually asked, when she got sick of mutilating Jean’s native language. “Here as in, like, America,” she clarified.

“A little over ten years,” Jean answered.

“How’s your accent still so strong?” Laila asked, cocking her head a little to one side.

Jean thought about that for a moment and narrowed his answer down to the simplest truth he could. “Spite.”

That got a laugh out of both the girls, and Jean actually noticed the corners of his own mouth twitching upwards. He quickly hid that by taking a sip of his coffee.

“Oh my god. You’re pure gold, Moreau,” Laila said.

Jean’s eyebrows creased together. He didn’t think words like ‘gold’ applied to him. He thought that would be a word better suited for someone like Jeremy, but he kept his mouth shut.

“You should hang out with the rest of the team more,” Laila continued. “I don’t think they know that you’re actually a pretty cool dude.”

“Yeah,” Alvarez interjected. “We’re having a movie night in our dorm sometime this week with some of the kids from the team. You should come.”

“And by that, she means: You’ll be there.” Laila added helpfully, pointing her fork at him.

Jean made a noncommittal noise and said he’d think about it. Laila rolled her eyes at his vague answer but seemed to accept that was the best she’d get from him right now. They finished their breakfast slowly and stuck around for a bit drinking coffee. It was surprisingly easy to kill a couple hours at the diner, mostly because the girls were able to fill most of the silences themselves, and when they did turn to Jean they would take his short and sometimes borderline rude responses and run with them. They drove back to the dorm with the radio blasting, and Laila walked him all the way up to his dorm even though she and Alvarez shared a room on the floor below.

She said goodbye at the door and insisted once more that he come to her movie night before heading back to the stairwell. When he opened the door and walked into the dorm, Jeremy was sitting on the couch watching TV. He looked up when the door opened and smiled at Jean. “Hey, you’re back!” He hopped off the couch and flipped the TV off. “C’mere, I have something to show you.”

Jean was puzzled, but Jeremy was ushering him back to the bedroom so Jean followed. Even with the blinds drawn and the lights out, it was still pretty light in the bedroom, so it took Jean a moment to notice anything was different. He only noticed the change when Jeremy pointed upwards, and then Jean finally spotted the little strings of lights which were strung up across the ceiling. “I just figured, y’know,” Jeremy shrugged, “This might help make it feel a little less like the Nest in here.”

Jean didn’t know what his face was doing, but after a while Jeremy’s smile faded. “Er, what do you think?” He said. Jean blinked and gave his head a little shake.

“Thank you,” was all he said in response. He looked down at Jeremy and gave his best attempt at a smile. Apparently it was enough because Jeremy’s grin was back and blinding.

 

-

 

Jean had completely forgotten about Laila and Alvarez’s movie night until Wednesday after afternoon practice. When he and Jeremy were walking out to the car, Alvarez appeared at Jeremy’s side and bumped into him hard enough to send him stumbling into Jean. “Hello to you too,” he said.

“Jer, we’re watching movies in me and Laila’s room tonight, okay? Make sure Jean comes. He needs to socialize with the team more,” she said, sending Jean a pointed look.

“I socialize with the team everyday,” Jean said.

Alvarez rolled her eyes. “Practice doesn’t count,” she told him. She ran out ahead of them and turned back on her way to her own car. “We’re starting at seven! I’m serious, be there!”

Jeremy shook his head and watched Alvarez sprint off. “Okay then.” He said. He glanced up at Jean. “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to, you know.”

Jean shrugged, thinking about Sunday’s breakfast and the string of lights which really did make it easier to sleep in the dorm room. There was still a part of him which really thought this would just wind up being some sort of trap which blew up in his face. But there was also a part of him which really, really hoped it wasn't, and that part of him seemed to think it would be a good idea. “No… We should.”

Jeremy nodded, smiling. “Alright.”

It was already after five when they made it back from afternoon practice, so they had some time to kill before heading down to the girls dorm. They ate some leftovers, and Jean got a call from Renee, so he wound up spending most of the time speaking with her. She let him go when Jean realized he only had two minutes till 7:00 and Jeremy was probably waiting on him. Jean had never been to the girls room before, but it turned out it was directly below his and Jeremy’s room, number 502. The door was open when they arrived, but Jeremy gave a cursory knock on the door frame and called out, “knock knock,” before entering.

Laila was in the kitchen making snacks of some sort, but she turned and grinned widely when she saw them.

Alvarez, who was in the living room, leapt up and made her way over to them. “Yay! You made it!”

“You didn’t make it seem optional,” Jean responded, shrugging and looking around. There were only about ten other Trojans here, not including Jeremy, the girls, and himself. He’d expected a bigger turn out, but the dorms weren’t that big and he supposed fitting all twenty-eight Trojans into one room would be near impossible. It looked like mostly juniors, seniors, and fifth-years were in attendance, although Jean recognized one of the freshman backliner subs. He thought her name was Daisy, but he couldn’t be sure. Of all his teammates, he took the least time to memorize the freshman’s names. He knew the names of the older students better, but it still took him a moment to place most of them. He recognized the other Sarah, a boy named Toby, a fifth-year dealer named Jacob, and a couple offensive players who he only knew by the last names printed on their jerseys.

The couch was already completely full, to the point where someone was even perched on top of it and leaning against the wall, so most of the team were spread out around the floor. Most of them seemed at least mildly surprised to see Jean there.

“It wasn’t,” Alvarez told him with a cheery smile. She grabbed on of Jean’s and Jeremy’s arms and lead them into the living room. “I saved you guys a seat,” she said, stepping over various Trojans and plopping down in front of the couch, patting a spot of empty carpet beside her.

Jeremy took the seat right beside Alvarez, and Jean sat between Jeremy and the wall. It was a bit of a tight fit, but he had the window on one side and Jeremy on the other, so it could’ve been worse.

“What’re we watching?” Jeremy asked.

Alvarez shrugged. “We were gonna do a vote when everyone got here. I think you’re it, so we’ll decide when Laila’s done with the popcorn.”

“Oh, we should watch—" Jeremy started, but he was interrupted.

“No,” Alvarez cut in.

Jeremy threw his hands up, or at least he tried to when he was crammed between two people. He managed to get them to about chest height. “You don’t even know what I was going to suggest!”

“Yes, I do,” Alvarez said. “We all do, and no, we’re not watching Lilo and Stitch.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’ve seen it, like, fifty times already, Jer.” Alvarez said.

Jeremy huffed. “And? It’s a timeless classic,” he insisted, and was met by some giggles from the surrounding Trojans.

Alvarez snorted. Laila joined them in the living room then, distributing two large bowls of popcorn. “Let it go, Knox,” she said. She retreated again, and came back with a tall stack of DVDs in her arms. She rattled off all the titles, showing the covers of each movie in turn, and everyone gave their feedback. Only Jean was silent, until Alvarez specifically asked for his choice. He shrugged and admitted he’d never seen or even heard of any of the movies the group had provided. That statement shocked almost the entire room into silence and earned him some shocked looks.

“You’ve never heard of any of these? Not even Star Wars?” A junior dealer, Riley, asked, like he was personally offended.

“Or the Lion King?” The girl next to him (the other Sarah, fifth year, striker sub) asked.

Jean shook his head.

Even Jeremy looked rather surprised, and he opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He didn’t know the full story of Jean’s awful childhood, but he could probably piece together enough to know Coach Moriyama didn’t allow Jean, Riko, and Kevin out to go to the theater. The group eventually got over their collective shock long enough to pick a movie, but this time they based their decision on what movie they deemed most essential for Jean to watch first. A lighthearted argument broke out and it took the group a good ten minutes to pick a movie, but they finally settled on something. Laila got up to switch off the lights and close the front door, and when she was up she put the movie in and got it started. There wasn’t much space left on the floor, and Laila wound up practically sitting on Alvarez’s lap, but it didn’t look like either of them minded very much.

In the end, it wound up being pretty much irrelevant what movie the group chose, because Jean stopped paying attention about half way through the first movie. Watching some PG animated film about a talking fish in a room full of Trojans was the last place Jean expected to find himself lost in the Nest. But it was something about being in a room full of people with the lights out that set every nerve firing and screaming at him to get out. He half expected someone to pull a knife on him. He pulled his legs up close to his body and tried to force himself to focus on the film again. Jeremy sent him a glance, but Jean put on the bravest face he could so Jeremy turned back to the television.

Jean managed to make it to the second movie, some incredibly cheesy flick called Mean Girls, but he couldn’t even focus on the screen anymore. He was fidgeting nonstop, his body practically shaking. _They’re not the Ravens,_ he told himself. _This isn’t the Nest._ Not the Ravens. But the more he thought it the more he couldn’t help but think of them. Every time someone repositioned themselves to get more comfortable Jean’s entire focus was diverted to them. He didn’t realize how obvious he was being, but with Jeremy basically plastered to his side in the cramped conditions it must’ve been easier to tell something was wrong. Jeremy nudged his shoulder into Jean’s arm to get his attention, and it worked, but it also made him jump. Jean blinked rapidly to clear his vision of blood red and black, and met Jeremy’s too-concerned eyes.

Jeremy leaned in closer to whisper to Jean without being overheard. “You okay?”

Jean thought of lying. It would probably be the smart choice, but he’d spent the last several weeks showing Jeremy all the cracks he had, and they were barely twenty minutes into the movie and Jean already felt like death. He gave his head a minuscule shake.

Jeremy bit his lip. “You want get out of here?” He asked.

Jean was genuinely surprised by the offer, but he took the out in a heartbeat, giving his head a small nod. Jeremy stood up, stretching his arms out before offering one of his hands to Jean. Jean flicked his eyes to it apprehensively, but eventually he took it and let Jeremy haul him to his feet. He didn’t drop his hand once he was up, but instead let Jeremy guide him across the room to the door. He could feel the looks they were getting, but he didn’t return any of them. He didn’t want to know what they thought of him right now.

Once the door had shut behind them, Jean took a deep, rattling breath. The fluorescent hall lights made things marginally better. All the lights in the Nest were red and too fucking dim. _This isn’t the Nest. It isn’t._

“What’s up?” Jeremy asked.

Jean avoided looking at Jeremy when he answered. “It’s just- with all those people, in the dark, it was like… Like being back _there_.” He figured he didn’t have to clarify where there was. Jeremy could figure it out. Before Jeremy could say anything, however, the door to the girls dorm was pulled open and Alvarez stepped out.

She spotted Jean and Jeremy and made her way over to them. “Where are you going?” She complained.

Jeremy turned to face her. “Back to the dorm,” he said casually.

“What? No, c’mon, the movie, like, just started,” Alvarez protested.

For once, Jeremy didn’t have anything to say, so Alvarez just dragged on. She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, c’mon, guys, you have to—"

“Sara,” Jeremy started, and his tone was enough to bring Alvarez up short. “We’re going home.”

Alvarez scowled. She looked like she wanted to protest more, but she looked down at the ground and shook her head, deciding against it. Finally she huffed and just settled for grumbling and pointing her finger back and forth between them. “You owe me and Laila one social interaction, redeemable at _our_ convenience.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. “Goodnight,” he told her. “Have fun with movie night.”

“Goodnight,” Alvarez finally conceded, and with one last glance at the pair of them she turned and headed back to the dorm.

Once the door swung softly shut behind her, Jeremy tugged gently on Jean’s hand to get him moving again. Jean hadn’t even realized he’d still been holding onto Jeremy’s hand. Instead of dwelling on that he just followed Jeremy to the stairwell and up to the dorm room.

 

-

 

Laila and Alvarez were a bit chilly with Jeremy and Jean at the gym the next day, but they warmed up again by afternoon practice. By Friday, they were back to their bubbly, chatty selves and talked Jean’s ear off whenever they got the chance. A couple of the other Trojans from the movie night tried to talk to him as well, but Jean still preferred the company of Jeremy and the girls so he wasn’t as receptive to talking to them. In the gym Friday morning Alvarez bet senior striker Kate Ramirez ten dollars that she could bench press Laila, and Jean surprised himself by smiling when she actually managed it.

After afternoon practice ended on Friday, Jeremy dragged Jean back to the dorm to grab a quick dinner, a blanket, and some sweaters, the latter of which Jean thought unnecessary since in all his time in California he’d never seen it drop below 80 degrees. It was still light out when they got on the road, but Jeremy said in order to get out of the range of light pollution they had about an hour or two of driving ahead of them. Even though Jeremy had suggested stargazing for Jean’s benefit, he seemed more excited for it than Jean was.

Jean surprised himself for the second time that day by drifting off briefly on the drive and not feeling horrified about it when he woke up. He usually liked to know where he was going, so he knew how to back out if a situation turned bad. But when he opened his eyes again and found he didn’t recognize the surroundings, all he did was look out at the unfamiliar desert landscape and watch the sunset paint the sky so strikingly orange he was reminded of the Foxes.

They’d left the city behind at this point. There was no sign of civilization other than the highway, a few sporadically placed street lamps, and the occasional rundown looking gas station or tourist attraction on the side of the road. “Where are we going?” Jean asked, looking over to Jeremy in the driver seat.

“The literal middle of nowhere, I guess,” Jeremy said. “Alvarez gave me directions to a place she says is pretty cool, but I’m not exactly sure where it is. Here,” he handed over a piece of paper that had been sitting between the front seats. It had a set of directions in messy handwriting Jean assumed belonged to one of the girls.

Jean didn’t recognize any of the street names or landmarks described, so he handed it back after a cursory glance.

“We should be getting pretty close,” Jeremy said. “Should be about fifteen minutes out.”

“So you picked a specific place in the middle of nowhere?”

Jeremy grinned. “Well I thought that was better than just driving aimlessly out into the desert.”

Jean conceded the point with a shrug and slouched back in his seat for the remainder of the drive. They eventually pulled off of the highway onto a tiny little side street that seemed to stretch endlessly off into the desert. Jeremy kept his eyes peeled, and turned off the road onto a gravel path which dead-ended in a sprawling field. The sun had almost completely vanished behind the horizon by now, but the lingering light was enough to color the desert landscape like fire. That was nothing compared to the sky itself, which stretched out endlessly in all directions, cloudless and unobstructed and painted with deep orange and red hues.

Jean had never seen the world looking so open. The world as he knew it was confined spaces and too much darkness and constantly feeling trapped. Even after two months of living in California, he still couldn’t really wrap his head around freedom, he still felt trapped in some deep recess of his mind. For a minute he couldn’t even believe this was real. Nothing about living in Southern California felt particularly real, but the endless sky stole his breath from his lungs. As soon as the car stopped Jean opened his door and stepped out, but all he could really do from there was stand and stare.

On the heels of awe came the usual gnawing doubt. It was weak and childish to be so floored by something as simple as a sunset over the desert. He had to get a grip, had to reign it in and grow up, had to-

He shook his head. The only thing he really _had_ to do was play Exy for Ichirou. He didn’t have to do anything for Riko anymore. He didn’t have to be like he was in the Nest. He silently told Riko’s ghost to fuck off and tried to let himself enjoy this.

He decided he liked the desert.

He walked around to the front of the car and met Jeremy there. “Nice place,” he said, trying for casually dismissive and falling spectacularly short. Jeremy’s resulting smile was wide and warm, so Jean didn’t beat himself up about it too much.

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “Lucky Alvarez was willing to tell me about it. I guess she took Laila here on their third date or something.”

Jean didn’t know what to make of that statement. Something about that kind of brought him up short. “How did she find it?” He finally managed to ask.

Jeremy shrugged, looking away from Jean and out at the horizon where the sun had finally vanished. “I don’t know, honestly. She likes to take road trips.” Jeremy spread the blanket he’d brought out on the ground a short distance away from the car. Jean followed him and tentatively took a seat. He pulled one of his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on it, looking across at Jeremy.

“So what now?” Jean asked.

Jeremy grinned and tilted his head to one side. “Enjoy the view?” He suggested. “Wait for the stars to come out?”

Jean didn’t really have a problem with that. He didn’t mind just sitting and watching the sky. As the light faded, the air chilled. It wasn’t cold, per se, but there was a slight nip in the air that Jean hadn’t experienced yet in California. Jean didn’t mind; it wasn’t that cold, and after two months of hundred degree weather it was refreshing. However, when he looked back over at Jeremy he wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not to see he was shivering.

“Are you really that cold?”

Jeremy looked over at him. “Yeah, it’s really chilly. Are you not?”

Jean almost laughed. “The Nest was always kept relatively cool. This isn’t much worse than that.”

It was almost too dark to make out his face, but it looked like Jeremy was frowning. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and he got up to rummage through the car. He returned a minute later, and he threw a bundle of cloth at Jean. It took him a moment to figure out what it was, but it was soft and looked like it was a faded yellow color, although he couldn’t be positive with the sky darkening above him. He toyed with the fabric a bit, and discovered it was one of the sweaters Jeremy had brought along. He thought it would be too small on him, considering Jeremy was several inches shorter than he was, but it fit surprisingly well when he slipped it on. Jeremy took his seat on the blanket again, and even in the dark Jean could see the golden ‘USC’ on the front of his Jeremy’s hoodie. “Better?” Jean asked.

Jeremy nodded, tugging at the ends of his sleeves to pull the ends over his fingers. “Much better,” he said, smiling. “Oh, hey, look,” he pointed up at the sky, leaning over so Jean could follow his line of sight better. Jean looked up at the sky and noticed right away what Jeremy was pointing at. A small cluster of stars had ignited in the sky as the last vestiges of pink and orange gave way to navy and black. Jean nodded, half focused on the stars and half focused on the way Jeremy was resting against him. But soon enough Jeremy had retreated out of his space and he watched the rest of the night sky come alive with constellations.

Jeremy laid back so he could see the sky better, and eventually Jean followed his lead when it became clear that was the best way to take everything in. With the starry night sky stretching infinitely out above him and a little piece of California sunlight lying at his side, it wasn’t so hard to believe, if only for a minute, that maybe he really was free.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: alcohol mentions & consumption. theres a party. ppl get drunk. yeah also more anxiety attacks/bad mental health jazz.
> 
> also this one is kind of long?? idk maybe i should've broken this into two chapters :x

July faded into August and Jean started counting down the days to the start of the season. The closer they got to the start of the school year and the more Jean felt like he was cracking around the edges. The first week of August, about an hour into afternoon practice, Jean almost punched the striker he’d been up against in the face. The only thing that stopped him was Alvarez grabbing him and dragging him away. Rhemann wasn’t happy and he told Jean in no uncertain terms that Jean was not allowed to injure his teammates.

A couple days later he went at it a little too hard on the court and made a wrong move which sent a nasty jolt of pain down his ankle. He tried to continue play, he’d dealt with worse, after all, but the team wouldn’t let him and the team nurse ordered him to sit out for the rest of practice. Watching practice continue without him was bad, and his teammates genuine concern for him when it ended was worse. He didn’t know how to handle it, so he threw it back in their faces as spiteful cruelty. As usual the Trojans were unimpressed, so he just reverted back to silence instead.

Two weeks into the month, Laila finally convinced Jean to join them in one of her team outings. Along with Laila, Alvarez, Jeremy, and Jean, there were nine other Trojans there. Jean recognized most of them from last month’s movie night, and Laila introduced him to Drew and Jason, offensive and defensive dealers who lived across the hall from the girls, and Chloe, a freshman striker who looked a bit intimidated hanging out with so many upperclassmen. Alvarez had somehow snagged the p-card and used it to take everyone out for ice cream. Jean thought it was the most ridiculous and childish thing the team had done to date, but he wanted to make an effort after being so nasty with them at practice so he kept his comments to a minimum.

The next week was the last week before classes started, so Jean focused on throwing everything he had into Exy to avoid sending himself into a tailspin of nerves and anxiety. He still couldn’t accept the fact that he was allowed and encouraged to go to class on his own, to have a life outside of Exy and the team. He’d signed up for classes a while ago, and he had his schedule already, but he had no idea how he was going to manage, so he did everything he could to avoid thinking about it.

Classes were set to start on Wednesday, and on Monday Jean finally took Renee’s (and now Jeremy’s, too,) advice went to see one of the school’s counselors. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but he knew it was his best hope of going into this school year without having a complete mental breakdown. It helped that the woman, Dr. Jessicka Ashton (who insisted he call her Jess), vaguely reminded him of Abby Winfield, who had always been nice to him back when he was staying in Palmetto. Jeremy dropped him off and picked him up from his appointment, and he left her office feeling rubbed raw and exhausted.

Tuesday Jean barely made it through practice, and Wednesday morning he woke up feeling worse than he had in awhile. Morning practice had been cancelled in consideration for the team’s first day back at school, but Jean wished it hadn’t. Being worn out from working out would’ve taken his mind off things and probably made it easier to make it through the day. Instead he woke up several hours too early and had nothing to distract him or take his mind off the coming day.

His first class didn’t start until 9:00, but he was up before six and was unable to get anymore sleep. Jeremy, of course, was still passed out cold on his bed. He never woke up more than ten minutes before he absolutely had to. He knew Renee wouldn’t start classes until next week, and he considered texting her, but he didn’t think he had the strength to do even that at the moment.

Time seemed to drag and fly by simultaneously, moving too slow and not slow enough. He attributed that to his indecision as to whether he just wanted the day to be over or if he wanted to postpone it as long as he could. Around 8:30 Jeremy finally woke up, and before he knew it it was time to leave for class. Jeremy gave his arm a reassuring little squeeze on the way out of the dorm, but it didn’t help much. The only thing he could think of was years and years of conditioning and Tetsuji drilling it into his team's head that they must never go anywhere alone.

Jean had two classes and before his lunch break, and they went about as terribly as he’d expected. He could barely pay attention to what his professors were saying, and when they tried to do those god awful ice breaker games where everyone went around and said their names, majors, and facts about themselves, Jean got up and left the room until they were over. He didn’t know any of his classmates, and with none of the team around he felt like a lost child. He wanted to just go back and hide in the dorm, but he had a GPA to maintain and he thought it wouldn’t do him any favors to miss his first day of classes.

He only had one class after lunch, and when he entered the classroom and say Laila he felt relief like a wave physically crashing into him. He took a seat beside her and she beamed with genuine excitement when she saw him. Jean actually smiled back, just having a familiar face around was a massive comfort. They were both finished with classes for the day after that, so they walked back to the dorms together, since both Alvarez and Jeremy, their usual rides, were still in class. Jean found after comparing schedules back at the dorm that the two of them had two more classes together in the coming week, and would have another class together on the following Monday. Laila wanted to go pro after graduation, too, and since they were in the same year she was in a lot of the same generic core classes as Jean was. That discovery was enough to take at least some of the edge off of his lingering panic, but the rest of the week was still a struggle to get through.

The NCAA Exy season wasn’t set to kick off until the following Friday, giving the team a week and a half of classes to muddle through before their first game. Jean could practically feel the tension rising in practices all week, but he wasn’t sure why. The Trojans were the best team in the pacific district by a mile, they were sure to win their opening game. Admittedly, Jean was feeling a bit of nerves himself. But he knew his anxiety came from an entirely different place. This would be his first actual game with the Trojans. Although he’d been practicing with them all summer and had become acquainted with their playing style, it still didn’t feel like enough. He was expected to act and play as an individual, but he had no idea how to do that. The Trojans were communicative in their own way, but they were nothing like the Ravens had been and he couldn’t shake the thought that this was all _wrong_ and Exy wasn’t supposed to _be_ like this.

Thursday’s afternoon practice ended early, with the coaches agreeing to give their team a bit of extra rest before the game the next day. Jeremy seemed extra cheery, offering the team enthusiastic encouragement and assurances that they would kick ass at tomorrow’s game. However, when they made it back to the dorm, he seemed uncharacteristically quiet. It was weird to see Jeremy anything but confident and chatty and after a few hours of it Jean was starting to feel a bit agitated himself.

He walked out of the bedroom, abandoning the assignment he’d been working on, and found Jeremy sprawled out on the couch. He leaned against the hall entryway and crossed his arms. “What’s the deal, Knox?”

Jeremy looked over at him, but the smile he put on was small and lacking in its usual sunny radiance. “What?”

Jean didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. “Come on, Jeremy. I think this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to me without being asleep.”

Jeremy sat up and pulled a knee up to his chest. He shrugged, but didn’t have anything to say to that, apparently.

Jean thought it was unnatural for Jeremy to look unhappy like this, and he didn’t like it. Jeremy had a way of lighting up the world around him, and he deserve to be that happy himself. Jean crossed the room and sat down on the couch, turning sideways to look at Jeremy. Jeremy shifted to look back at him. The past few months had made Jean acutely familiar with anxiety, it was just unusual seeing it in someone else, for once. And even more unusual that that someone should be Jeremy Knox, of all people. “What is it?” Jean asked.

Jeremy shook his head. “It’s nothing. It’s- it’s stupid,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” Jean told him. He considered himself the expert in panicking over the most trivial and ridiculous things, but his therapist was trying to convince him that there was no silly reason for feeling the way he did. It was easier to believe when he was saying it to someone else. “Don’t say that.”

Jeremy sighed, and spent a minute staring at the floor. “I don’t know, it’s just.. Ugh.” He leaned forward and hid his face in his hands. “It’s my last year, you know? And even though there’s a good chance we’ll win tomorrow- and even if we don’t, it’s not like it’s the end of the world, it’s just…” He ran one of his hands through his hair. “It’s dumb, but, I just want things to go well.”

Jean considered that for a moment. Jean was shit awful at the whole ‘comfort’ thing. His experience with being a good friend were limited to taking a beating in Kevin’s place while he fled the Nest with a bloody and broken hand. After all the times Jeremy had seemed to know exactly what to do to make him feel better, he realized he had no idea how to return the favor. He never thought he’d need to. Jeremy was all confidence and smiles, Jean never thought he’d have issues like this. “Jeremy,” Jean began, but he didn’t know where to go from there. He reached over and placed his hand gently on Jeremy’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “Your team is in the Big Three for a reason. You’re going to kick ass tomorrow night.”

Jeremy looked up at Jean, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Our team,” he corrected.

“Our team, fine,” Jean amended without thinking. “Our team is in the Big Three for a reason. If the Foxes can win championships, the Trojans can do it too.” It surprised him that he believed what he was saying.

Jeremy still looked a little shaky, but the light was beginning to reignite in his eyes. “I think that’s the first time I’ve hear you call the Trojans your team.”

Jean huffed. “The Ravens would be scandalized,” he muttered.

“Good,” Jeremy said tensely. “Fuck the Ravens.”

“Jeremy Knox,” Jean said with a short laugh. “What would the media say if they heard you say such a thing?”

Jeremy completely ignored his barb. “I also think that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh,” he said, turning so he was sitting sideways on the couch to look at Jean with an expression on his face that Jean couldn’t quite decipher. “I should have anxiety attacks more often.”

“That is not funny,” Jean said, crossing his arms.

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, but he was smiling again so Jean couldn’t really hold a grudge.

 

-

 

The first game of the season was a home game against UC Santa Barbara. First serve was at 7:00, but all the Trojans were called to the stadium two hours in advance. While the Trojans had been tense yesterday, Jean noted that today they were buzzing with a different sort of energy. They all seemed genuinely excited, all grins and chatter about Santa Barbara’s team stats and plays they wanted to make. Even Jeremy was back to his usual self, practically hanging off the other strikers while they discussed plays in high spirits.

Jean tried not to be a downer, but his teammates good moods didn’t seem to reach him. Instead he kept thinking how wrong it felt to be here with this team, and subsequently how much he hated those feelings. He wanted to get better, he wanted to move on passed the Ravens, he wanted to be happy here. He wanted— well, he wanted a lot of things. But Jean never really got what he wanted, and he was like a storm cloud hanging on the edges of the Trojans sunshine. His time away from the Ravens was like a constant stream of one step forward, two steps back. No matter what sort of progress he made, something always pushed him back to square one, to that first day out of the Nest.

He stood against the wall in the locker room until it was time to change out for warm ups and tried not to spoil his team's good mood. For the most part, they let him get away with it. Most of the Trojans didn’t know him well enough off to court to register his behavior as anything out of the ordinary, but the girls kept casting glances at him and Jeremy bumped into him gently and sent him a significant look on the way into the changing room.

Even though he’d had the entire summer to adjust to his Trojan uniform, when he put the whole thing on tonight it still felt alien on his body. His armor felt too heavy and uncomfortable, and his neck guard was threatening to choke him. When he caught a glance of all that gold and red in the mirror on the way out of the changing room it was like seeing it for the first time, and he almost felt a little unsteady on his feet. He carried himself forward on the sheer will to survive alone.

He almost didn’t hear Rhemann calling his name on the way out to the inner court, but eventually he got his attention. “Hey, Moreau.”

Jean stopped and turned to face the coach. “Yes?”

“The press is going to want to talk to you in post game. They’re gonna want to ask you about a million questions about the Ravens and why you’d leave the first ranked team in the nation and blah blah blah,” Rhemann warned him. “They’ve already been hounding me all summer.” At the look that crossed Jean’s face Rhemann clarified, “I haven’t said anything. The explanation David Wymack gave me, however vague and unhelpful, didn’t seem like something I had any right to make public. I just wanted to warn you.”

Jean scowled and considered that. “Do I have to talk them?”

“I mean, it would make my life a hell of a lot easier,” Rhemann said, wrinkling his nose. “Then they might leave me alone, but—”

“No, you don’t,” came Jeremy’s voice. Jean started. He hadn’t even noticed Jeremy approached, but suddenly he was at Jean’s side. “He doesn’t have to say anything, Coach,” Jeremy said again, leveling his gaze at Rhemann.

“I was going to say that, thank you, Knox,” Rhemann huffed with an amused grin. “Let a man finish a sentence every now and then.”

“I don’t?” Jean asked, shifting his eyes from the coach to Jeremy.

“No,” Rhemann said. “Like I said, I was just giving you a heads up. Just in case they get too pushy after the game.”

Jean nodded. Just like every other aspect of Trojan life, his new head coach was full of surprises. He was like the anti-Tetsuji. “Thanks,” Jean mumbled. “If I have to talk to them I’d just ruin your reputation, anyway. What’s that saying about if you don’t have anything nice to say just don’t say anything?”

Rhemann snorted. “Alright, you two, get out there for warm ups,” he said.

Jeremy smiled and turned to head out to the court. Jean took a breath and followed. The good thing about Exy was that no matter what was going on in his life, the moment he stepped onto the court it was like all of that just fell away. No matter how unsettling it was to hear “number nine, Jean Moreau,” he was able to lose himself in the game before it became much of an issue. The Ravens didn’t exist on this court at this point in time: it was just USC and Santa Barbara. Santa Barbara’s team didn’t offer much of a challenge. The strikers did their best, but it was fairly easy for Jean and Alvarez to lock them out and keep them away from the goal. Across the court their defense seemed to be faring better than their striker line, but by the time Jean was called off the court at the thirty minute mark the game sat at 3-7, USC’s favor.

Jeremy wasn’t in Jean’s path as he headed off the court, but he detoured passed him anyway. “What did I tell you?” He said. Jeremy looked confused under his helmet, so Jean elaborated. “Last night. I told you we were going to own this.”

Surprise flashed across Jeremy’s face, but it was quickly chased away by a wide grin which lit up his entire face. He tapped his stick against Jean’s before Jean turned and walked off the court. Fifteen minutes later the first half ended with the score at 8-4, with the Trojans still leading. Jean didn’t go on again for the rest of the game; the Trojans had 28 players to cycle through, and even their weakest players could take on this team without issue. It made him a little antsy not being out on the court, but the rest of the game flew by and ended (predictably) on a Trojan win.

 

-

 

The team was rowdy and excited and just generally all over the place after the win. Jean didn’t know how it happened, but he wound up getting roped into a post-game party in Laila and Alvarez’s dorm. One dorm was too small to fit all 28 Trojans, so in the end the girls just left their door open so they could spill out into Drew and Jason’s dorm across the hall, but Jean stayed in the girls room.

Jean didn’t know where they got so much alcohol, but by the time he got to their dorm there were several bottles already scattered around the room. As soon as Jeremy walked in with Jean at his side Alvarez hopped off the couch and rushed over to greet them. “Yay! Jean and Jeremy are here,” she said with the exaggerated cheer of someone who was walking the line between tipsy and completely drunk. Jean didn’t know how she’d had the time to get so plastered already since they’d only got back to the dorm twenty or thirty minutes ago. “Come, come, come,” she said, throwing an arm around each of the boy's shoulders and dragging them deeper into the apartment. She released them when she got back to the couch and plopped down at Laila’s side, throwing her legs over her girlfriend's lap. “Have a drink. Have _lots_ of drinks,” she said, gesturing around at the bottles dotting the room.

Laila seemed more sober than Alvarez, but she was still giggling in amusement at her antics.

“Look,” Alvarez said, leaning over the edge of the couch to grab a bottle which was sitting by Laila’s feet. “Toby brought coffee flavored vodka. Jer, it’s vodka, and it tastes like coffee. It’s my favorite thing.” The bottle was half-empty already, and Jean raised an eyebrow.

Jeremy laughed and turned to Laila. “She didn’t drink all of that, did she?”

“Afraid so,” Laila said, although she was grinning widely. “I would’ve helped her, but I hate vodka, and she seemed pretty adamant about not letting anyone else take it from her.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Oh my god, Sara.”

Jean gave a shrug. “Impressive,” he said. She still seemed pretty coherent for having downed half a bottle of vodka in less than thirty minutes.

Alvarez gave a triumphant sort of laugh and shoved Laila’s shoulder. ”See? Jean thinks I’m impressive. And he’s not impressed by anything.”

Laila leveled a steely glare at Jean. “Don’t encourage her,” she said and she reached over to stop Alvarez from taking another swig. She finally managed to grab the bottle and pry it out of Alvarez’s hands. “Here, take this, please” she said, handing the bottle over to Jeremy. “There’s, uh, less disgusting drinks in the kitchen,” she said, waving her hand in the vague direction of the fridge.

Jeremy shrugged, sitting on the floor near the couch across from Laila and Alvarez. “I dunno, coffee vodka seems pretty decent to me.”

Jean wrinkled his nose. “You both have terrible taste.”

Alvarez stuck her tongue out at him, but Laila smirked. “I told you,” she said to Alvarez. “Like I said, there’s less nasty stuff in the kitchen.” She held up her cup and swished it around. “Hey, actually, be a pal and grab me another beer when you’re in there? Please?”

Jean considered that for a minute. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to drink anything. The idea of losing control even a little bit around so many people made his skin crawl. But he figured one drink wouldn’t hurt, as long as he was around Jeremy or Laila. He would’ve included Alvarez on that list but she was becoming steadily less coherent by the minute as the vodka really hit her. He rummaged around in the kitchen until he found something decent and Laila’s beer, but he was intercepted before he could make it back to his friends.

Two of the teams’ backliner subs, who he thought were either freshmen or sophomores, had noticed him and approached him.

“Oh my goodness, Jean is here,” one of them, he thought her name was Tanya, said with the slow smile of the vaguely inebriated.

The other one, (who Jean thought was called either Jake or Jamie or something with a J. Jake, he was pretty sure, when he thought about it) leaned against the counter near Jean. ”Wow. You never socialize with us,” he commented.

Jean shrugged. It wasn’t exactly a question, so he didn’t respond and instead took a sip of his drink to have something to do.

He was already looking for an excuse to back away, but the next thing out of Jake’s mouth was about the game, and that was something Jean knew how to talk about. Jake made a remark about the other team's strikers, and Tanya complimented one of his saves on the court like it was the most spectacular thing she’d ever seen. Jean told her any decent backliner would’ve been able to do that in their sleep, especially one who played for _this_ team. Just like on the court, his teammates didn’t seemed fazed by his harsh and borderline rude criticisms, which at first made his comments only mores scathing, but before long he’d finished his drink and had started on the one he was supposed to bring to Laila, and he was actually getting bored of talking about Exy.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it was enough that most of the faces in the room had shifted and the sky outside the window had faded to black. It was also long enough for Jean to go from sober to tipsy and a little beyond. At this point he was fairly certain Tanya was trying to flirt with him, and he had just enough alcohol in his system that he didn’t quite have to energy to tell her the multitude of reasons why she was barking up the wrong tree entirely.

He looked around until he found Laila and Alvarez again, and didn’t even bother to excuse himself from his current conversation, and instead just walked over to where they were sitting on the window sill in the living room. He perched beside them returned the look Laila was throwing at him. She didn’t seem to mind that he’d drank the beer he was supposed to give to her, and in fact she seemed to have forgotten about it entirely. “Was that what I thought it was?” She asked. “Is Jean Moreau making _friends_?”

Jean shrugged. “If you can consider a few minutes of drunken conversations about Exy friendship,” he responded. Although when he thought about it, he supposed that’s what friendship had mostly been to him up until his transfer. “Where’s Jeremy?”

Both of the girls shrugged. “I’unno,” Alvarez said. “He drank a lot and went somewhere.”

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” Jean deadpanned. He scanned the crowd in search of his missing roommate, but he couldn’t locate him amongst all the other Trojans. He frowned slightly.

Laila giggled beside him. “You know, your accent gets stronger when you’ve been drinking.”

Jean looked back at her and raised his eyebrows. “No it doesn’t,” he said defensively.

“No, dude, she’s right, it totally does,” Alvarez said, leaning forward so she could see Jean around Laila.

Jean was about to respond to that, but at that point Jeremy finally returned and sat down on the floor in front of the three of them. His face was flushed from the booze and he was grinning from ear to ear. He’d lost the bottle of vodka at some point, and from the expression on his face Jean wondered if he’d drank it all.

“I found Jeremy,” Alvarez said, pointing at him and grinning mischievously at Jean.

“Again, you’re very helpful,” Jean replied, rolling his eyes.

“Wow, you sound very French right now,” Jeremy commented.

“Ha, see! Told you!” Laila said.

Jean scowled, turning to face Jeremy, but Jeremy’s grin only widened. He leaned forward and leaned his elbows his knees, propping his face in one hand. Jean told himself he was just shifting forward because he was getting more comfortable in his seat. “I do not,” he said to Jeremy. “You’re drunk, Jeremy, what do you know?”

Jeremy laughed, not really out of amusement but out of happiness. “You’re going that thing with the _J’s_ … you know. That thing where it sounds like there’s a ‘sh’ in there somewhere. It’s so cute.”

Jean blinked at him, but before he could say anything his phone went off and startled him enough that he jumped back and smacked his head against the window. “Fuck,” he hissed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and picked it up, ignoring the girls laughing next to him. “Hello?”

“Rude,” Laila muttered when he picked up. He ignored her.

“Hello, Jean,” Renee’s voice said.

“Hi,” Jean said. He knit his eyebrows together. “Isn’t it late in South Carolina right now?”

Renee laughed gently. “Yes, it’s almost two in the morning, but I went out with the Foxes after the game.”

“Oh. How did the game go?” Jean asked. He’d almost forgotten her team had its opener tonight, as well.

“It went alright. There’s still some tension with our new recruits, so our line wasn’t as cohesive as it could’ve been, but we pulled together in the end.” Renee sounded happy, if a little tired, but that might be due to the late hour. “How about yours?”

“Good,” Jean said. “We won. Obviously.”

Renee laughed again. “Kevin will be thrilled.”

“Is that Renee?” Laila asked, and when Jean nodded she held out her hand. “Ohh, gimme. I want talk to her.”

“Uh, okay,” Jean raised one of his eyebrows. “Renee, my friend Laila wants to speak with you.”

“Oh,” Renee sounded surprised. “Alright, hand me over.”

Jean passed Laila his phone, and she grinned as she took it. “Hi Renee,” Laila chirped. “Yeah. Yep. Mhmm, it’s Laila Dermott.” Renee said something and Laila laughed. Jean wanted to pay attention to her, but Jeremy was still leaning in close and looking at him with that easy smile on his face, and it was a bit distracting and he didn’t really want to look away. She was just chatting amicably about goalkeeper things with Renee anyway, and he left them to it.

There was a moment of silence between them, but eventually Jeremy cocked his head and scrunched his brows together.

“What?” Jean asked.

“You don’t do that enough,” Jeremy said softly.

“What?” Jean repeated, because for the life of him he had no idea what Jeremy was talking about.

“Smile,” Jeremy tapped his fingers against his own lips.

Jean hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling. He mirrored Jeremy’s gesture and drummed his fingers on his mouth to confirm the accusation. “You smile enough for the both us.”

Jeremy laughed. He shook his head, and his wavy bangs fell into his face, almost long enough to hang in his eyes. Jean resisted the urge to reach out and brush them aside. Luckily, before he could, Laila was pushing his phone back into his hand. He blinked at it and put it to his ear. “Hi,” he said.

“Hello again.” Renee said. “Your friends seem nice.”

Jean shrugged, remembered she couldn’t actually see him, and made a noncommittal sound that could’ve been agreement. “They’re okay,” he said.

“I’m glad you’ve found some good people to spend time with.” Renee told him.

Jean thought about that for a moment before he said, “me too.” The conversation died out pretty quickly after that, and eventually Renee disconnected and Jean stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Jeremy shifted back and leaned back away from him, so Jean slid off his perch on the window sill to sit on the floor opposite him. He didn’t really realize he’d done it right away, and tried not to feel weird about it afterward.

The four of them sat and chatted for a while, until a few more Trojans joined them and brought a bottle of some clear alcohol that someone had ripped the label off of, and Alvarez and Jeremy roped their respective roommates into doing shots. Laila tried to cut Alvarez off after a while, but she seemed determined to get as hammered as she possibly could before the night was up, and Jeremy wasn’t far behind. Jean quit after a couple shots because he was growing less and less lucid, and the more fuzzy his thoughts became the more his nerves screamed at him that something was wrong. In the end he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, willing the cool surface to leech out some of the alcohol's influence.

Laila misinterpreted his anxiety for exhaustion, because she snapped her fingers in his face. “Moreau,” she said, “don’t pass out. You have to make sure our fearless captain stays alive tonight.”

Jean opened his eyes. Laila leaned back against Alvarez’s legs, and Alvarez herself was in the middle of a lively and extremely animated conversation about something Jean didn’t bother to pay attention to with Toby Tanaka, the one who apparently brought the coffee vodka Alvarez was so in love with. Laila nudged Jean’s knee and pointed over at Jeremy, who was laying on the floor a couple feet from Jean with an arm over his eyes. “How much did he drink?” Jean asked, at this point not surprised to hear concern tinging his own voice.

“A lot,” Laila said. “Way more than you and me, almost as much as this dummy,” she knocked her head against Alvarez’s knees.

Jean hummed and nodded at Laila. He scooted over and prodded at Jeremy. “Hey, Captain Sunshine, rise and shine.”

Jeremy dropped his arm and looked up at Jean, propping himself up on his elbows. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me,” Jean said. “Come on, let’s get home before you pass out on Dermott’s living room floor.” He got to his feet, feeling a lot less steady than he would’ve liked, and offered a hand to Jeremy. Jeremy stared at it for a moment in consideration before grabbing on and letting Jean haul him to his feet. Jeremy naturally ran warm, but with all the alcohol in his system he was like a human space heater. Or, more accurately, he was like a little sun.

Jeremy smiled and swayed a little on his feet, putting a hand on Jean’s chest to steady himself. “Goodbye everyone,” he said to small group of Trojans who were still sticking around in the girls’ room. There was a chorus of goodbyes in return, and Jean let Jeremy lean on him as they left the dorm so he wouldn’t fall over. When they reached the stairwell, Jeremy hooked one of his arms through Jean’s and leaned more heavily on him.

At this point Jean had learned it was pointless to compare Jeremy to Riko; anything Riko would do Jeremy would essentially do the exact opposite. But it was still strange to see his captain drunk off his ass and hanging onto Jean like he was the only thing keeping him rooted to the planet. It was also strange to see him smile at Jean with genuine warmth instead of some twisted amusement before doing something horrible to him. Jean got Jeremy back to the dorm, and snagged him before he could head into the bedroom.

“Wait,” Jean said, grabbing a hold of Jeremy’s arm and leading him into the kitchen. Jeremy didn’t protest and waited while Jean filled a glass with water and pushed it into Jeremy’s hands. “Drink this so you don’t feel like death tomorrow.”

“Good call,” Jeremy said, leaning against the kitchen counter while he drank. Jean wasn’t sure if he should leave him alone, so he poured a glass of water for himself. He hadn’t drank as much as Jeremy, but he’d still had more than he’d had in years. Jean felt better now that he was back in his own room, but he still didn’t like how lucidity seemed just out of his reach. He vowed not to drink so much ever again.

 

-

 

To spite Jean’s efforts, Jeremy woke up with what he claimed was the world's worst hangover the next morning.

“This is why we don’t drink caffeinated vodka, you ridiculous human being,” Jean chided, before bringing Jeremy another glass of water.

It was enough to make Jeremy laugh, even if that was followed by a painful wince. Sunday found both of them rushing to finish homework they’d neglected over the weekend. All in all Jean counted it as a good weekend, and as such when Monday came along he was completely unprepared for the nightmare it brought with it.

Jean's therapy session was a disaster. Jess had finally managed to get him to open up about some of the horrors he’d faced in the Nest, convinced it would do him good to talk about it, but it seemed to Jean it had the opposite effect. His sessions were only an hour long and as such he’d barely managed to even make a dent in the massive recesses of horrible memories he had from the Nest, but what he did share was enough to completely rattle him. He left Jess’s office feeling rubbed raw and ragged, like every single one of his scars had opened up again. Having to lay it all on the table like that, to relive it and bring up memories he would just as soon bury for the rest of his life broke something inside him.

Thanks to how early in the day classes ended for Jean on Monday, he was able to fit therapy between school and practice. Jeremy had offered to pick him up from the counseling center and drive him to the stadium, and he was already there when Jean stepped outside. He stopped in his tracks, trying and failing to find the courage to face him, and forced himself onward anyway. The sun and the bright blue sky, normally such comforts, just felt too bright as he made his way over to Jeremy’s little yellow car. Jeremy didn’t seem put off by Jean’s lack of a greeting. By know he knew him well enough to know he sometimes didn’t have it in him to do the whole conversation thing. Jean was silent the entire drive to the stadium.

When they pulled up out front of the court, Jean looked up at the red and gold painted building and froze. Missing Exy practice was unthinkable, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to force himself to move. He stared ahead at the stadium but stopped taking it in after a few seconds. All he could think about was going inside and walking down a flight of 26 stairs, of being trapped for who knew how long, of losing the sun and the sky and being smothered by black and blood-red. He knew, logically, that when he opened the door to the Trojan court he wouldn’t find a stairwell. What he would find instead would be a short hallway and a spacious lounge and his friends and teammates and not even a drop of black paint in sight. To spite that, he still couldn’t escape the Nest. It was everywhere, mucking up his thoughts.

Jeremy got out of the car, but it didn’t take him long to notice Jean wasn’t following. He opened the door and ducked his head in the car, looking at Jean while Jean looked at the dashboard like it was the most interesting sight in the world. “You coming?” He asked.

Of course he was. If Jean didn’t get to miss practice for broken fingers or major concussions or lines of stitches that climbed into the double digits, he wouldn’t miss practice for a mental break. If he could stand, he could play, and he would play. But to spite that, he couldn’t make his body listen to him. He stayed, frozen in the passenger seat, unable to even cast a sideways glance at Jeremy.

Jeremy seemed to get the hint. He climbed into the driver seat. “Are you okay?” He asked like he already knew the answer, which he probably did. It was probably pretty obvious right now.

Jean couldn’t take it anymore. He hugged his arms over his chest and leaned forward, shutting his eyes as tight as he could and resting his head against the dashboard. “I-I don’t—“ He shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t today.” He hated that he was already bracing for the worst. Jeremy had proved to Jean a while ago that he was nothing like Riko, but he couldn’t help but fear for some retribution. At the very least, he expected to be forced to play anyway.

Except this was Jeremy Knox, literal ray of human sunshine, and all he did was shut the door and buckle his seatbelt again. “Okay. I’ll drive you back to the dorm. I’ll tell Coach you’re not feeling up to it today.”

That didn’t exactly make Jean feel any better, but he was a little relieved when Jeremy pulled away from the stadium. Jean finally managed to get himself into motion when they pulled up outside the dorms. He expected Jeremy to just drop him there and leave, but Jeremy got out with him and walked him up to their room. Jean barely made it to the couch before he collapsed, running his hands through his hair anxiously. He felt the couch sag as Jeremy sat beside him, but he didn’t look up.

“Do you want me to stay behind today, too?” He asked.

Jean shook his head. “No. Don’t miss practice because of me.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind. You’re more important than one silly afternoon of practices.”

Jean shook his head again. “No, go. I—“ He didn’t want to say he just wanted to be left alone, he didn’t have the strength to deal with anyone, even Jeremy, but Jeremy seemed to pick up on that anyway.

“Alright,” he said. “But if you need anything, call Coach, okay? I can come back whenever.”

Jean nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Feel better,” Jeremy said, placing his hand gently on Jean’s shoulder and rubbing his thumb in small circles.

That gesture normally would’ve comforted him. In the passed months he’d grown used to Jeremy’s casual form of physical affection and comfort, and had even started latching strength from it. But today, with the memory of unfriendly Raven hands too fresh in his mind, it just served to further shatter the already broken pieces of him. His entire body went rigid. “Don’t,” he said. “Please. Not- not right now.”

Jeremy withdrew his hand like he’d been burned, and retreated from the couch as fast as he could, swearing under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Shit. I’m really sorry. I’ll see you after practice.” Jean didn’t bother to respond, and waited until he heard the lock click into place before he sprawled out, face down, on the couch. He silently cursed Jess and every single Raven and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

 

-

 

Jean woke up later that day with a blanket draped over him. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he still felt exhausted. From what he could tell, the dorm was empty. He didn’t know where Jeremy had gone but he didn’t have the energy to figure it out at the moment. He knew he should probably get up and get something done, work on homework or make dinner or do anything productive, but instead he put his head back down into the crook of his elbow and went back to sleep.

Jean slept through practices the next morning and skipped all his classes. He didn’t have any of his teammates in his classes with him on Tuesdays, and after everything the idea of going about the day _alone_ seemed practically unthinkable to him right now. At this point, Jean was used to nightmares, but they’d been particularly vivid last night. He would’ve gone to practice that afternoon, but Jeremy, the perceptive bastard, convinced him to sit out again when he noticed Jean was still in a dark place.

Jean wound up missing his first class on Wednesday, and would’ve missed the rest, except around lunch time there was a knock at the door. Jeremy had gone ahead to campus for his 9:00 o’clock class, so Jean got up to answer the door himself. At this point Jean wasn’t surprised to see Laila turn up on his doorstep uninvited.

“You’re alive!” She said, grinning and pushing passed him into the dorm and throwing herself down on the couch.

Jean shut the door and trailed her into the living room, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you, obviously. You haven’t been at practice for days. I was half convinced you’d been abducted by aliens.” Laila said. “For you,” she added. She had what looked like two cups from Starbucks in her hands and she was holding one out to Jean.

Jean shrugged. He ignored the drink Laila was offering him. It had whipped cream and caramel drizzled on top and just generally looked like it would be sweet enough to give him cavities on the spot.

Laila rolled her eyes, undeterred by his silence. “Take it, seriously. It’s good. You’ll love it, even with your weird aversion to sweets.”

Jean took it just to appease her, but he was hesitant to drink it. “What is this?”

“Caramel hazelnut frappuccino. It’s delicious, I promise,” Laila said. She took a sip of her own drink before she went on. “Please tell me you’re coming to class today. I can’t handle English Lit without you, I’ll be so bored I’ll probably wind up jumping off the roof.”

“I don’t think it will be any more interesting with me there,” Jean told her.

“Bullshit,” Laila said, with feeling. “Everything better with a friend.” She sighed, changing tactics. “Okay, but seriously. We’ve all been, like, crazy worried about you. I don’t know what’s going on, but I figure it’s gotta be _something_ and I just wanna make sure you’re doing okay.”

Jean took a sip of the drink just to have something to do besides answer her, and the taste made him frown. He didn’t hate it, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Laila. “I’ll be able to play on Friday. Don’t worry.”

“Oh my god, Moreau, so not what I was talking about,” Laila made an incredulous gesture at him with her hands. “This isn’t about Exy. We’re worried about _you_ , not the game, dummy. How are you doing?”

Jean frowned. In his world, he didn’t get exist outside of Exy. He was valuable for his game alone and couldn’t get grasp someone caring about him outside of that. All he was was number three, what else did he have to offer? He found himself reaching for the number on his cheek unintentionally and dropped his hand as soon as he noticed what he was doing. He wrapped his fingers around the cup Laila had given him just to keep them still. “I don’t know,” he said. “I… can’t stop thinking about the Nest.” He didn’t really mean to say it, but it was out before he knew it.

Laila blinked at him, raising her eyebrows. “Oh,” she said, quieter than before.

“The Ravens are… fucked up people,” Jean said, reaching up to his face again and tracing the largest of the scars Riko had left on his cheek.

Jean could tell Laila hadn’t been expecting that. Jean always evaded questions about the Nest or the Ravens or anything from his past, really. Her eyes followed his fingers and she pursed her lips. She mimicked Jean’s gesture and tapped her fingers on in her face. “So they really… They did that to you?” She’d always made assumptions about the Ravens being a violent bunch, but maybe having it confirmed was too much.

Jean nodded. “Riko liked knives,” he told her, avoiding her eyes.

Laila made a high-pitched noise. “ _Knives_? What the fuck? He cut up your face?”

Jean shrugged. The men of the team had seen the full extent of Riko’s cruelty when he changed out for practice, but the worst Laila had seen were the few scrapes he had on his face. It at least made him feel a little better that the Trojans hadn’t mentioned anything about them. “Not just my face,” Jean said bitterly. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to hide his scars, so he lifted the hem of his shirt a couple inches to display some of the wrecked skin on his torso.

Laila’s expression was an odd mixture of completely blank and vehemently murderous. “If he wasn’t already dead I’d fly to West Virginia and punch Riko in the face.”

“If it makes you feel better, Neil Josten already did that at last year’s winter banquet,” Jean said.

That brought a smile to Laila’s face. “That does make me feel better,” she said emphatically. “Remind me to high five that kid next time we play the Foxes.” She shook her head. “Jesus. Why did you stay for three years?”

“Ten years,” Jean corrected. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Ten years?” Laila repeated. “No, it had to be three. You left after your junior year.”

Jean shook his head. “I’ve lived at Evermore with Kevin and Riko since I was eleven years old.” He tried to think up some explanation that didn’t involve telling her about the Moriyama business and his family’s involvement with them. He drummed his fingers against the cup in his hands. “My parents… sent me to the- to Tetsuji so he could train me.”

Laila thought about that for a minute. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but I kinda want to hit your parents, too. Who would do that to their child?”

Jean shrugged. He was glad she’d never understand the world he came from. “I’m not their biggest fan myself,” he admitted. Even mentioning them left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Laila smiled weakly. “Shit, Jean. I… I had no idea. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You can say you’ll never bring me drinks this sugary again,” he said, trying to shift the focus away from the Ravens. He’d spent the last two days obsessing over them, and he was done talking about them.

Laila took a moment to respond, trying to decide if she really wanted to let the subject drop. “No promises, dude,” she finally said. “So are you coming to class today?”

“I suppose,” Jean said. It was bad enough he’d already missed two days, he desperately needed to get his shit together.

Laila whooped and grinned. “Yes! Get ready and come down to my room. We can walk to campus together.” She stood up and waited for Jean to get up too before she made for the door. “See you in a couple minutes,” she said. Jean nodded at her, and she left.

 

-

 

After classes Laila and Jean walked to the parking lot together in search of a ride to the stadium. Jean felt anxiety prickling at him at the thought of returning after such a long and pointless absence, but he tried to shove it down. The longer he waited, the worse this was going to be. He hadn’t really talked to Jeremy since Monday morning, so when he saw him talking to Alvarez by her car it gave him a moment's pause. Sure, he’d seen him around the dorm, and he hadn’t fallen back into completely silence, but things had been unusually quiet around the dorm the last few days. Alvarez spotted Laila and Jean first, and she smiled broadly and waved at them, calling out a greeting. Jeremy turned and spotted them, and surprise was quickly washed away by a toothy grin.

Laila walked over to Alvarez and gave her a kiss that Jean thought was a bit inappropriate for such a public place. Jean stopped a few feet away and looked at Jeremy. Jeremy smiled at him. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi.” Jean said, somewhat sheepishly.

“Are you coming to practice today?” Jeremy asked.

Jean nodded. “Yes. I’ve missed too much already.”

Jeremy shrugged. “You’ve only been out a couple days. It’s fine.”

Jean shook his head. He disagreed, but he didn’t want to argue about it.

“Well hey, you need a ride to the court?” Jeremy asked.

Jean nodded. “Sure.”

Jeremy smiled, warm and soft. “Cool.” He turned to Laila and Alvarez. “Meet you guys at practice, yeah?”

Alvarez nodded. “See you there,” she said, not taking her eyes off Laila.

Jeremy and Jean set off together towards Jeremy’s car. Before they could get in, Jean caught Jeremy with a hand on his arm. “Wait,” he said. Jeremy stopped and turned to face Jean.

“What’s up?” Jeremy asked.

Jean took a deep breath and stepped closer so he could speak quieter in case any other students were nearby. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Jeremy cocked his head in confusion. “For what?”

“For everything. For missing practice. For being so…” Jean shook his head and gestured helplessly with his hands. “Awful recently.”

“Jean,” Jeremy shook his head gently. “You haven’t— You’re allowed to take some time for yourself. No one’s going to hold that against you.”

Jean thought about that. It wasn’t the response he expected and couldn’t quite believe it, but he wanted to. “That’s never been something I was allowed to believe.”

“That’s probably shouldn’t surprise me at this point,” Jeremy said, biting his lip. “I hope… you can learn to believe it over your time here.”

Jean swallowed down whatever reservations were stuck in his throat and nodded. “Me too.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a hoe for the west coast
> 
> ~~i live in oregon so i had to write a couple scenes in my home state rip myself~~
> 
> honestly i feel like this whole fic is a lot .. Softer than any characters written by /nora sakavic/ have any right to be but .... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  fuck. i dont care. im kind of a firm believer that when given the chance jean's the type of person who would actually love how soft & positive the trojans were after he actually got used to them. i just want him to be happy fight me

The pacific district’s fall banquet was scheduled for the third week of the season, and it was being hosted at the University of Oregon. By some incredibly lucky scheduling coincidence, it was also being held the same weekend the Trojans were playing the Ducks, so they would be driving up Friday for the game and staying in Oregon through Sunday. The drive from LA to Eugene would take all day, so Rhemann cancelled morning practices and pulled his team out of all their classes in order to get them on the road in time to be there for the 7:00 o’clock serve.

It was the first time Jean had actually been on the Trojan busses, since both of the games they’d played in the last two weeks had been home games. Even though they technically got to sleep in since practice had been cancelled, Jeremy was _Jeremy_ and he was dead on his feet come Friday morning. Jean practically had to drag him to the parking lot, and when he got him down there, Jeremy dug his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Jean.

“Ugh, you drive. I’ll sleep,” he said, walking around to the passenger side and leaning his head on the roof of the car.

Jean was kind of floored and almost stopped dead in his tracks, but they were on a schedule so he accepted it and got the car unlocked. The last time he’d driven anywhere it had been to pick Neil Josten up from the airport in West Virginia. Not a pleasant memory, but not a bad one compared to most of his memories. Jean was almost impressed that Jeremy actually did manage to fall asleep again on the five minute drive to the stadium.

The busses were parked outside the stadium, and some of the Trojans were already loading their things on board. Jeremy awoke of his own accord when the car stopped, but he still looked half-asleep the entire time they were packing up their away gear. He looked marginally more awake by the time they made it to the bus, and Laila and Alvarez met up with them while they were loading their gear. Alvarez grinned, rubbing her hand in Jeremy’s hair.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she chirped.

Jeremy returned the greeting with significantly less enthusiasm, and the four of them climbed onto one of the red and gold busses. Laila and Alvarez picked a seat as close to the front as they could, and Jeremy snagged the seat directly behind them. Jean scooted onto the seat beside him, and Jeremy smiled at him. Jean looked around the bus, which was already fast filling up. Some seats had three or four people crammed into them when friend groups apparently couldn’t stand to have even a seat back or an aisle between them.

It was already a completely different experience than bus rides with the Ravens. One of the strangest things was seeing people who weren’t even a part of the team sitting amongst the Trojans. Since the banquet and the game would take the entire weekend and that wasn’t something a lot of college students could devote themselves to, most of the Trojans either hadn’t found dates or had just elected to bring teammates, but there were still enough unfamiliar faces on board to alarm Jean.

Ravens weren’t allowed to date, weren’t even allowed to socialize with people outside the team, and it hadn’t even occurred to Jean to bring anyone. Jean realized Jeremy hadn’t brought anyone either. He also realized he was glad for that, but he stamped that thought down as quick as he could. Alvarez’s voice brought him back to reality and he snapped his head back to focus on her. She and Laila were turned around in their seat to talk to him and Jeremy. She apparently had plans for how they were going to spend their time before the banquet tomorrow, and she was pretty adamant than Jean and Jeremy tag along. Jean wasn’t too eager about spending the day wandering around a strange city, but he’d deal with that tomorrow.

After the four coaches convened and made sure everyone was accounted for, they split up between the Trojans two busses and the busses pulled out of the parking lot. The driver got them on the road heading north to get the long journey underway. To spite his apparent inability to ever get enough sleep, Jeremy actually was a morning person and when he blinked the last of the sleep from his eyes he was just as cheery and bright as ever. When Alvarez and Jeremy got going, they could talk about anything for hours and make it seem like whatever topic they were on was legitimately the most exciting thing on the planet.

Even so, things petered out after a couple hours on the road. Laila had pulled out some schoolwork to occupy her time, and after a while Alvarez sat down in her seat to distract her and make sure she didn’t actually get any of it done. Jean leaned back against the seat and looked over Jeremy out the window. He’d never seen any other parts of California besides Los Angeles, and watching the landscape change outside the window was enough to tilt his world a little bit around him. Jean eventually worked up the courage to ask Jeremy to switch seats with him so he’d have a better view, and Jeremy (of course) obliged.

Desert changed to forest to cities, and the sky went from blue to gray to rainy. After spending months of his life in Los Angeles, Jean had almost forgotten there was any other type of weather besides sunny and hot. The little bit of skin he showed was almost always sunburned as a result, so he’d almost forgotten that it would technically only be summer for a few more days. The sea would sometimes make an appearance out the window, but unlike the lazy blue waves of LA, this ocean was a roiling, grey-green beast that beat against cliffs and crashed into sandy beaches. The redwoods were shocking. Jean didn’t know trees came that big.

They stopped somewhere in Marin County for lunch around midday. The air was cold and it was drizzling a little, but Jean didn’t mind. Jeremy was shivering after the short walk from the bus to the restaurant, and he pulled a thick sweater out of his bag as soon as they got back to the bus. He offered one to Jean, too, (why that boy had so many sweaters, Jean didn’t know, but he always seemed to have an abundance of them) and he took it to spite not being very cold. If he was honest with himself he mainly put it on because it was soft and smelled like Jeremy, but no one else needed to know that.

They’d barely been back on the bus ten minutes before Jeremy leaned back and drifted off to sleep. At first, Jean didn’t notice, still preoccupied watching California fly by out the windows. But then Jeremy shifted closer to Jean in his sleep, and his head fell gently on Jean’s shoulder. Jean’s entire body went stiff for a split second, but then Jeremy let out a soft, contented little sigh. Jean realized Jeremy hadn’t actually made any attempt at physical contact since Jean’s breakdown two weeks ago. That realization was followed by a second realization, that he’d actually missed Jeremy’s casual touches.

 _Fuck_.

Jean tried not to move too much, not wanting to disturb Jeremy. He settled back in his seat and continued staring out the window, although he was barely paying attention to what he was seeing. Even with the noisy chatter from the team around him, Jean felt oddly peaceful. He wouldn’t mind spending the bus ride like this.

Jean started when Alvarez turned around and leaned over the back of the seat in front of him. “Hey, Je—“ She stopped, mid-word, and her mouth fell open in blatant surprise, which was quickly followed by a wide grin. “Oh my god,” she said in a dramatic whisper. She started patting down her pockets, and cursed under her breath. “Babe, babe oh my god,” she smacked Laila in the arm repeatedly to get her attention. “Babe, my phone. Where’s my phone? I can’t find it.”

“Check your bra,” Laila said.

Alvarez patted down her chest and beamed triumphantly, pulling her phone out of her bra. “Oh my god,” she said again, flipping it open and aiming it back at Jean and Jeremy.

Jean finally spoke up, looking warily at Alvarez. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a photo,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jean knew he should probably stop her. Nothing good could come of this, and an ingrained distrust which had been beaten into him by Riko made his skin prickle. He had to remind himself that this was _Sara Alvarez_ , and even though she was loud and a little sarcastic she was probably one of the most good-hearted people on this planet. “Why?” He asked.

Alvarez smirked. “I dunno. Blackmail material?” She suggested. She pushed a couple buttons on her phone and snapped a few photos until she seemed satisfied.

Again, he had to remind himself who he was dealing with. A threat like that back in the Nest would’ve been deadly serious and it would’ve come with some nasty repercussions. From Alvarez, he knew it was harmless. “For which one of us?” He asked.

She shrugged, sticking her phone back in her bra. “Either one? Both of you? I guess we’ll see where the opportunity presents itself first. Babe,” she said, and she nudged Laila. “Babe look.”

A second later Laila appeared over the seat back and took a moment to assess the situation. Her face broke out into a grin and she giggled under her breath. “Aw,” she said, “that’s cute.”

Jean frowned at them, but couldn’t think of a response. Fortunately, (or maybe unfortunately, Jean wasn’t sure which way to look at it,) their voices woke Jeremy. It took him a minute to realize what was going on. He looked up and caught Jean’s eye, and sheepishly retreated out of his space. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes.

Jean was too aware of Alvarez and Laila still staring at them, but he just shrugged, an almost imperceptible lift of his shoulders. “It’s fine,” he mumbled. He would’ve added _I don’t mind_ , but he thought the girls might have something to say about that.

“Have a nice nap?” Alvarez asked, resting her chin on the back of the seat.

Without missing a beat Jeremy turned to face her and Laila and smiled. “Yes, thank you,” he said breezily.

Alvarez accepted that and flipped her gaze over to Jean, switching gears. “So, let’s talk defense,” she said. They’d already gone over strategies for tonight's game time and again, but Exy was always a safe topic so he didn’t mind.

 

-

 

It was pouring down rain by the time they got to U of O. Alvarez complained loudly and with passion when they got inside the stadium, but Jean didn’t mind it. It was a jarring change of pace after the heat of Southern California, and it reminded him for a few moments how far he was from Castle Evermore. He felt a little bad about how soaked Jeremy’s sweater was even after such a short time out in the rain, but he figured it’d be dry again by the time the game was over. To spite the downpour, the team was in high spirits while they changed out and they were practically bouncing by the time they were called onto the court for first serve.

Jean was always amazed at how the Trojans good sportsmanship and good cheer infected even their rivals. Even particularly nasty teams always toned it down when playing against NCAA Exy’s sunshine squad. Even though the other teams of the pacific district had to know they had no chance against the Trojans, something about them always made them want to try and to play a cleaner game. The only team Jean had ever seen unaffected by the Trojans energy was the Ravens.

The Ducks goalkeepers were fairly weak, so even though they had a strong offense line the Trojans wound up taking the game with a six-point lead.

The Trojans stalled as long as they could in the away locker room, not eager to head back out into the downpour outside. Jean found Jeremy in the team room once he’d finished changing out, and tried to give him his sweater back. He didn’t need it anymore, and his coat would be better against the rain.

Jeremy, however, didn’t seem interested. He looked over at it and shrugged, shaking his head. “No, you should keep it,” he said.

“You’re the one who’s cold all the time,” Jean protested.

Jeremy laughed quietly. “But it fits you better. And besides, I have like a million others.”

“You do own an awful lot of sweaters for someone who lives in Southern California,” Jean acquiesced. He shrugged his coat off so he could put the sweater on under it.

“They come in handy at away games,” Jeremy said. “See? It looks way better on you.”

Jean looked down to inspect the sweater, picking at the gold letters on his chest. “So I’m not too pale to pull off red and gold anymore?”

“Nah. It suits you.” Jeremy smiled, nudging Jean with his elbow.

Jean found himself surprisingly tongue-tied, so he just nodded in response. The team was mostly ready to go by that point, so Jean shouldered his gear bag and leaned against the wall to wait. Alvarez was the last out of the changing rooms, and Laila had to practically drag her to the bus. If anything the rain had only picked up since they first arrived in Eugene, and Alvarez made it clear how displeased she was about that. “This is why I hate the Pacific Northwest,” Alvarez said. “Why can’t all our games against Oregon and Washington be home games?” She seemed to ask the team at large when they piled onto the bus to the hotel.

“What’s wrong with the rain?” Jean felt compelled to ask, sliding into the seat behind her and Laila again. “I don’t think it’s so bad.”

“Of course _you_ like rain,” Alvarez said, turning around to face him and rolling her eyes. “You’re like a human storm cloud yourself.”

Jean could’ve just let it drop, but the Trojans chattiness was contagious. “You try living under a stadium for ten years, you’ll learn to appreciate it too,” he said defensively.

Alvarez opened her mouth, closed it again almost instantly, and pursed her lips. She looked at Laila, who’d turned around in her seat now, too. “Fuck,” Alvarez finally conceded. “Fair enough, damn.”

Jean should’ve just kept his mouth shut. He hated being the reason his teammates- or, friends, he corrected- were unhappy. Luckily, Laila rallied. She scrubbed her hand in Jean’s hair and gave a half-smile. “It’s okay, kid, I like the rain too. Rainy days are cozy.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Jean said, nodding weakly.

“Well this rain kind of kills all my plans,” Alvarez said, managing a smile. “So you’ll see tomorrow. We’ve got all day until the banquet to just hang around the hotel and relax. Right Jer?”

“Yeah, totally,” Jeremy said. “It’ll be fun,” he promised, smiling at Jean.

 

-

 

Laila and Alvarez were at Jean and Jeremy’s hotel room the next morning just after 10:00 o’clock. Apparently their unscheduled morning visits didn’t stop when they left USC. Alvarez was holding a big pink box and Laila was holding a cup holder with four massive cups of what he assumed was coffee. The weather was still abysmal and grey, and the rain hadn’t let up overnight. Alvarez shoved the box into Jean’s hands and stormed into the room.

“Come in, I guess,” Jean said belatedly. He set the box down on the tiny table the room came with, and Laila followed his lead and set the cups down beside it.

“Where’s Jeremy?” Alvarez asked, sitting down on his vacant bed.

“Shower,” Jean replied. Alvarez accepted that with a nod and shouldered out of her wet coat.

“You, come with me,” Laila said, pointing a finger at Jean.

“Why?” Jean asked.

“Supply run. That one,” she pointed at Alvarez, “says she’s not leaving the room until we have to leave for the banquet.” Alvarez nodded in confirmation.

“What do we need supplies for? I thought we were just hanging around the hotel.”

“We need snacks and blankets, dude. Can’t have a nice cozy day in without lots of snacks and lots of blankets,” Laila informed him.

Jean shrugged. He figured he’d trust her judgement and grabbed his key card before following her out of the room. She lead him down the hallway to where a set of vending machines were nestled into a nook in the wall. “So is it, like, all sweets you dislike, or just chocolate?” Laila asked him while she bought what Jean considered to be an obscene amount of candy and chips from the vending machine.

Jean shrugged. “It’s not that I dislike _sweet_ things, it’s that I don’t like things with disgusting amounts of sugar in them.”

“Hmm.” Laila thought about that. “Alright, good to know. What about, like, in moderation?”

Jean shrugged. “I have no way of knowing. Do you really think they let us eat anything unhealthy in the Nest?”

Laila sighed. It looked like she was trying to buy out the entire vending machine. “Well, you’re welcome to anything I’m buying, if you wanted to find out. Here, help me with this.” She started handing various snacks to him, and stuffing more of them in her pockets until she seemed satisfied. “Alright, that should do it,” she announced. “C’mon.” She turned and walked a few rooms down until she found the room she’d been sharing with Alvarez and got it unlocked. There were two beds, but only one of them looked slept in. She grabbed the blankets off both beds and balled them up into messy bundles. She handed one to Jean and they headed back to his room.

Laila took all the blankets from Jean while he got the door unlocked and let them inside. She immediately deposited them unceremoniously on the floor almost as soon as the door closed and started pulling snacks out of her pockets and dumping them atop the blankets. Jean followed her lead and dropped the rest of the food on top of Laila’s pile. “Nice,” Alvarez said.

She and Jeremy were sitting on one of the beds, the four cups on the nightstand between the beds and the pink box open between them, where Jean noticed there were donuts inside. A lot of them. Laila gestured at them with her arms. “Up, up, up, I have a plan. We’re doing this right.”

Jeremy and Alvarez obliged, coming to stand by Jean near the door. Laila grabbed the blankets off first one bed, then the other, dumping them in untidy piles between the two beds. “So your plan is to completely wreck the room?” Jeremy asked incredulously, crossing his arms.

“No, silly,” Alvarez responded. “Blanket nests. Duh. Or, blanket some-other-word-besides-nest. No more nests for Jean.”

“Toss me the rest,” Laila said.

Alvarez grabbed the blankets from her own room, letting all the snacks scatter onto the floor, and brought the blankets to Laila. “Need help, babe?” She asked. Laila made an affirmative noise, so Alvarez joined her.

Jean glanced at Jeremy, thinking about the time all those weeks ago that Jeremy had brought both of their blankets into the living room where the two of them to spend the night in. Jean also thought about how much Jeremy and the girls had done for him that they really didn’t have to do, and how much they’d done for him without even realizing it. It was hard to get lost in memories of crushing hatred and black decor when Jeremy or Laila and Alvarez kept him busy almost constantly. And yet, they never pushed him past his limits, and they’d done something no one had ever done for him: they respected his boundaries without question. He didn’t know why he deserved people like this in his life. He couldn’t possibly have done anything near good enough to deserve this, to deserve them.

Jeremy finally returned Jean’s look. He was already smiling, albeit a little bemusedly, but it only widened and brightened when he looked at Jean. “I definitely don’t see you smile enough. I like it when you do.”

That almost startled the small smile which had found its way to Jean’s face away, but he managed to keep it in place. “Your fault. You smile all the damn time, it’s contagious.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said. “Good. I’m glad. You deserve to be happy more often.”

“Jean, Jeremy!” Laila called, and Jean’s attention snapped over to her. She was sitting between the beds in a slightly more orderly pile of blankets with Alvarez at her side. “Bring the snacks.”

Jean hesitated and cast one last glance at Jeremy before he started collecting various bits of vending machine food from where it was scattered across the floor. “You could’ve been a bit more careful with this, you know,” Jean grumbled.

“Next time,” Laila promised.

Jean and Jeremy relocated the food to smaller piles on each bed so that it was within reach of all four of them. Laila and Alvarez were sitting across from each other, each of them leaning against one of the beds, and box of donuts between them. Jean sat against the nightstand with his legs crossed in front of him, and Jeremy took a seat beside him. There wasn’t much space and the two of them were practically pressed together, but Jean found that he didn’t mind.

“What now?” Jean asked.

“Now,” Laila said, “we watch cheesy TV and eat junk food and gossip and play dumb games.”

“It’s gonna be great,” Alvarez promised.

To Alvarez’s credit, Jean thought it wasn’t a bad way to spend the morning. It turned out what Jean thought was coffee was actually hot chocolate, which Jean had to admit wasn’t _too_ bad. He still had to set it aside after only a couple sips, but it wasn’t overly sweet so Jean could enjoy it. The vending machine snacks were trial and error, but Jean discovered he had a vague taste for the fruit-flavored candy. Alvarez made a point of showing him that in with the donuts were a couple croissants. (“They’re French, you’re French, I figured you’d liked them,” she said.) The heater in the room barely worked, so most of the blankets wound up wrapped around one of the four of them. (A good portion of them taken by Jeremy.) Jean mostly listened while the three of them talked, content to just sit back and enjoy himself for once, but when it was these particular three people it was impossible not to get roped into the conversation at some point. The topics of conversation shifted from opinions of recent movies and TV shows (Jean didn’t have any insight on this, really, his entire identity had been Exy since he was 11), gossip about various team members (Jean was vaguely interested in that at least, but he didn’t pay enough attention to them off the court to contribute much), and everything else under the sun.

He could’ve lived his whole life without Laila’s next line of questioning, but the girls were nothing if not inquisitive.

“So,” Laila said, laying on her stomach with her arms folded under her chin, Alvarez’s legs thrown over her back. “Jean Moreau,” she concluded.

“Laila Dermott,” Jean said skeptically.

“Question for you,” Laila said.

“Okay?”

“Tanya Harris.” Laila said.

“That’s more of a statement than a question,” Jean said, his voice still tinged with obvious confusion. “And one that makes no sense, at that.”

“Okay, fair,” Laila nodded. “What do you think about her?” She amended.

Jean shrugged, hedging the real question by diverting to Exy. “She still needs a lot of work if she ever wants to make starting line, but she’s a fairly decent backliner.”

“Oh, bless that one track mind of yours,” Laila sighed dramatically. “Not what I meant though. I’m pretty sure she’s into you, she keeps asking me about you.”

Jean frowned. “That’s unfortunate for her,” he said.

“So what, you’re not interested her?” That came from Alvarez, resting her head back against one of the beds and looking at Jean.

Jean paused, but finally shook his head. “Nope.”

Laila snorted. “Why not? She’s pretty cool. And she’s hot.” Alvarez reacted to that by jabbing her foot into her side.

Jean could’ve just lied. He could’ve ticked off any of the myriad of reasons why he'd never date Tanya Harris. He thought about just saying he didn’t want to take focus away from his game (which would’ve technically been truthful), or that Ravens weren’t allowed to date and he wouldn’t even know where to start (also truthful, to a degree), or that she just wasn’t his type (again, true, in a sense), but instead he opted for actual honesty. He didn’t know when he started trusting the three of them, but somehow it’d happened. “She’s… She’s a _she_ ,” Jean said awkwardly. “That’s not- I don’t…” He trailed off and gestured with his hands.

Laila caught on quick enough. “Oohh,” she said, nodding. “Wow. How did I not know you were gay?”

All Jean could do was shrug.

Laila was in an awkward position, so all she could do was reach out and pat his knee with her hand. “Well. Thanks for telling us, man.”

Jean nodded, and actually found himself smiling weakly.

They spent the rest of the afternoon there, talking and eating and watching shitty TV, just like the girls had promised.

 

-

 

The Trojans were one of the first teams to the banquet, since they’d been in town already. Jean didn’t recognize any of the busses in the parking lot, but he attributed that to the fact that he was in a new district. Jean almost would’ve liked to just stay in the hotel room all night. The last banquet he’d been to, he’d attended with the Ravens. That was the night Riko invited Neil Josten to Evermore, and Neil subsequently punched Riko in the face. Jean wanted to commend Neil for that, but Riko was always particularly savage after one of Neil’s venomous verbal lashings, so all he could muster up was a hot spike of bitterness in the pit of his stomach.

He’d never been to one of these things without the Ravens. He’d let Laila and Alvarez pick him out something to wear, because he had no idea how to actually pick out an outfit that didn’t match with the rest of his teammates. He’d had months to acclimate to the fact that the Trojans operated as individuals and not as a dysfunctional hive mind, but it still made him stop dead in his tracks sometimes. There were still times when he had no idea how to function. Like now, for example, standing in the U of O away locker room by the door, not quite able to step through it.

A soft touch on his arm jarred him out of his bleak thoughts. He blinked and looked over to find Jeremy standing beside him. “You lost there?” He asked with a soft smile.

Jean shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. “I’ve never done this without—” He stopped himself, rephrasing what he’d been about to say. “… By myself.”

“You’re not by yourself,” Jeremy reminded him. “You’ve got me. You’ve got us.”

Jean took what was supposed to be a steadying breath and nodded at the floor. “Right.”

“Hey,” Jeremy said, waiting until he had Jean’s attention again. “I mean it. We’re here for you.”

Jean nodded again. “I know.”

“Good,” Jeremy nodded back at him. “Ready?”

Jean flicked his gaze around the room. “I suppose.”

The Trojans were seated at a table with the UW Huskies. The two teams hadn’t played each other yet this season, so Jean had no idea who he was looking at when he took his seat across from them. It came as second nature to him to treat other teams at banquets with casual disdain, but he figured that wasn’t going to cut it with the Trojans. He sat between Alvarez and Jeremy, hoping the two chattiest and friendliest Trojans would distract the others from his sullen silences. Of course, he was also sitting between the captain and the vice captain, so that drew more attention than he’d hoped for.

It was inevitable that the subject would come up, but when the man sitting across from him asked about the Ravens, it still made him feel uneasy. “So, why did you leave the Ravens, anyway?” Unfortunately, the steely glare Jean sent his way wasn’t enough to deter the man. “I mean, come _on_ , you have to know everyone in college Exy is talking about it. What happened?”

Jean knew both Alvarez and Jeremy turned to look at him, but he didn’t look back. He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, it isn’t,” the Husky said. “I mean, the Ravens are the best team in the country, why leave?”

Jean couldn’t exactly tell him the truth. He knew too much about the Moriyama business to leak any of Evermore’s secrets. But he was annoyed enough by the guy across from him he wanted to chew him out anyway. “Is your ignorance so endearing I have to spell it out for you?”

“Jean,” Jeremy said at his side, but Jean ignored him. The Husky’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“The Ravens are not worth my time,” Jean deadpanned. “Obviously.”

That seemed to take the man by surprise. “What?”

“It’s no secret that there are more players from USC in the National Court than there are from Edgar Allen. The Ravens are all bark and bullshit titles. They got to the top on their coach's name and by having absolutely zero regard for other human beings.” Even though it technically wasn’t the reason he’d left the Ravens, Jean was surprised to find he meant what he was saying. “They don’t care about being the best players, they just care about their standing.” At this point he was mostly just regurgitating Kevin’s words, but somewhere down the line Jean realized he had started believing them too. He blamed it on being around them for so long. “The Trojans might not win every game they play, but they put in the work to improve and be the best players, and they actually enjoy being on the court. The Ravens might have been first ranked, but the Trojans are the best team.” His tone was cooler than it could’ve been, but there was still a bite to his words.

A couple other Huskies and a good number of Trojans who were within earshot had turned his way to listen.

Connor, who was seating on the other side of Laila from Alvarez, laughed and said, “Wow.”

Next to him, Kate raised her eyebrows. “Did he just say something nice about us?”

Jean looked down and examined his hands, waiting for them to leave him alone and go back to their own conversation.

“You know,” Jeremy began, and Jean turned to look at him. His lips were tight but it almost looked like he was fighting off a smile. “I kind of want to tell you off for being rude, but I think you just complimented us.”

Alvarez scrubbed his hand through Jean’s hair, leaning over to join in. “Do you really think we’re better than the Ravens?” She grinned broadly.

Jean leaned back in his seat. “I think the Ravens are a waste of everyone's time.”

“And they’re awful people,” Laila added helpfully.

"That too," Jean agreed.

“Guys,” Jeremy chided, but he was grinning at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, feel free to come check me out on tumblr and yell at me about the foxhole court. im [danwildsofficial](http://danwildsofficial.tumblr.com/) over there ! :3c


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again i havent spent much time in la but??? last time i was there it was like 80-90 degrees in the middle of december, so?? idk. sorry if im completely off about what winter is like in socal. im trying my best rip
> 
> also, thank u all for ur responses & kudos - every single nice comment i get makes me cry, and im not joking.

At first Jean thought summer was just being stubborn and refusing to let go of its hold, but after a while he realized it was just that ‘autumn’ in Southern California was essentially nonexistent. September faded away to October without any real change in the weather, and even the trees took their sweet time in changing colors. (Those that even would change, that is. The palm trees which littered LA remained green all year.) The heat was less sweltering, but it still persisted. It was always a bit of a shock to the system when the team traveled to colder parts of the district for away games, and were met with bitings winds, pouring rain, and plummeting temperatures.

Jean's therapy sessions were like a damn roller coaster; some days he felt like they were helping, but some days he left Jess’s office feeling like he’d been run over by a train and wishing he could sleep the rest of the day away. Still, he was learning some coping techniques which he had dismissed as useless at first, but would sometimes help when every shadow reminded him too much of all-black decor and crushing hatred. Sometimes he still woke up rigid and terrified after a particularly nasty nightmare, but something had happened around the first week of October which made even those nights easier to bare.

When he woke up around four in the morning, he was surprised to find Jeremy's bed empty. The other boy had gotten up to get a glass of water, and when he returned to the bedroom to find Jean awake as well, he somehow managed to wrangle the truth from him. Jeremy had sat across from Jean on his bed and helped talk him down, brining him back to the dorm room and away from Edgar Allen. Afterwards he’d given Jean an open invitation to wake him next time it happened. Jean was convinced he’d never take him up on that offer. When he first arrived in California the mere idea of being that open and vulnerable with another human being would’ve made him sick to his stomach, but at this point it was more that the idea of burdening Jeremy further was the last thing he wanted to do. He'd been dealing with this on his own all year, and he would continue to do so.

But then, barely a week later, Jean gave in and tossed his pillow across the room to wake him. Jeremy startled awake faster than he normally did with a confused and sleepy, “Whatthefuck.”

“Sorry,” Jean said, sitting up in his bed. “Can I have my pillow back?”

Jeremy scrubbed his hand across his face and got up, bringing the pillow back across the room to Jean. He looked like he was still halfway between sleeping and waking, but after he handed Jean his pillow he sat on the ground beside the bed and folded his arms on the mattress, leaning his chin on one arm. “What’s up?”

Jean took a deep breath and stared up at the little lights that still hung on the ceiling. “Just a bad dream.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said softly. “What can I do to help?”

Jean shook his head. It was a challenge to continue, to actually put into words how goddamn weak he felt right now. “I don’t know. Just be here. Don’t let me go back there.” He didn’t need to say where ‘there’ was, they both knew.

Jeremy nodded. “Okay, I can do that.” He got to his feet and gingerly climbed onto the bed, resting his back against the wall near the foot of the bed.

After a moment's consideration, Jean scooted over and repositioned himself until he was sitting beside Jeremy. “Thanks.” He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

Jeremy knocked his shoulder gently against Jean’s. “Of course I don’t. I want to.”

It was half exhaustion, half something else, which had Jean leaning his head down on Jeremy’s shoulder after he said that. He waited to see if Jeremy would say something about it, but instead he just shifted closer so Jean could get more comfortable leaning against his side. Jeremy radiated warmth (literal and metaphorical, in this sense), and Jean almost forgot about the Nest.

A few minutes passed in silence, but it was eventually broken by Jeremy. “Did you know Laila and Alvarez hated each there when they first met?”

It was completely unexpected and so out of the blue, and it was also such a shocking thing to hear Jean blinked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, nodding. “When we first signed them, everyone thought it was going to be a problem. It was pretty bad at first.”

“What happened?” Jean found himself asking.

“I dunno what started it. But it literally started the very first day of summer practices. We were doing a scrimmage, and Alvarez was guarding Laila’s goal. I guess she thought Alvarez was letting the strikers get passed her too easily or something, because Laila kept knocking the ball right back at her. She even hit her in the helmet once.” Jeremy laughed quietly.

“No,” Jean said, utterly disbelieving. A) these were the _Trojans_. They didn’t hate anything, or anyone, and B) this was _Laila and Alvarez_. They were practically connected at the hip in a way which almost rivaled Raven pairs.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “They got all up in each others faces, shouting so loud we had to pause play. We had to, like, physically pull them apart, we were afraid they were going to start throwing punches.”

“Oh my goodness,” Jean whispered.

“I know,” Jeremy said. “We tried to get them to talk it out, but they couldn’t say a single decent word to each other and it always ended in shouting. We couldn’t let them on the court at the same time during games. We even banned them from scrimmaging on the same side of the court.”

Jean was so flabbergasted he took his head off Jeremy’s shoulder in order to openly stare at him, his mouth open.

Jeremy nodded, but he was grinning. “Right? But damn, if they weren’t _persistent_. You know what they’re like. They were determined as hell to get to each other. There was this one practice, where Alvarez was down by the away goal, and Laila was in home, but at one point I swear on my life Laila hit one of the balls someone fired on her all the way down to far-fourth specifically to hit Alvarez. It caught her right in the helmet. I didn’t know if I was supposed to be horrified or _impressed_.”

That startled a laugh out of Jean. The Nest was, for now at least, forgotten, wiped away by Jeremy’s bombshell. This time it was Jeremy who was staring. He didn’t resume his story right away, so Jean had to prompt him. “How did they… Get from that to where they are now?”

Jeremy gave his head a little shake. It looked like it took some effort to bring himself back to his story. “Um. I guess they just spent so much time trying to get to each other that they decided maybe they’d be better as partners in crime instead of enemies. I mean Jesus Christ, I was half-convinced they were going to kill each other. But then they teamed up and now they’re practically unstoppable, on the court and off it. They were just better together.”

Jean couldn’t imagine a world without Laila and Alvarez being _Laila-and-Alvarez_. He agreed, they were better together. “I’m glad they worked it out,” Jean said.

Jeremy nodded, smiling at Jean. “Me too.”

Jean yawned, and leaned back against the wall. He turned his head a little to the side to look at Jeremy. “Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime.” Jeremy replied. “And I mean that.”

Jean believed it, and that was more than a little alarming. Maybe Renee was right, and this place was good for him. Or maybe he was just kidding himself.

“You know,” Jeremy continued after a minute. “I think that’s only like, the second time I’ve heard you laugh.”

“Not much to laugh about in the Nest. I guess I forgot how.” Jean shrugged. He was aiming for sarcasm, but it was so close to actually being the truth that it kind of fell flat.

“Well,” Jeremy said softly. “I’m happy I’ve reminded you.”

 

-

 

Jean honestly thought that when Laila asked him what he was going to be for Halloween in class on Wednesday that she was joking.

“I mean,” she said, tapping her pen on the desk. “It’s a week away and you don’t have a costume yet. You gotta get moving.”

“Really?” Jean asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes, really, Jean. Halloween is next Wednesday, in case you didn’t notice. Or have you forgotten the date?”

“No, I mean,” Jean fixed her with an incredulous stare. “We’re twenty-one years old, Laila. We are grown adults.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me things I already know, but are completely irrelevant.” Laila rolled her eyes like Jean was being purposefully ignorant. “What’s your point, Moreau?”

“My point is, why on earth would I wear a costume?” Jean asked. “I’m not a child. I don’t celebrate Halloween.”

“Oh my god.” Laila put her head down on the table and sighed dramatically. “What the hell am I going to do with you?” She jerked upright, leveling him with an intense stare. “Jean Moreau, please tell me you’re joking.”

“I was about to say the same to you,” Jean responded.

“Come on, dude. Halloween is like, one of the best holidays on the calendar! You gotta dress up, especially if you’re gonna be hanging out with us.”

“Us?”

Laila sighed. “Jeremy, me and Alvarez, some other kids. I dunno.” Laila spun her finger around in a vague circle. “Us. The team.”

“I didn’t realize you guys had plans.” Jean said. “But like I said, I didn’t realize adults still celebrated this holiday.”

“There’s no age limit on having fun,” Laila told him.

“In my opinion, dressing up in ridiculous outfits doesn’t sound like _fun_ ,” Jean responded.

Laila sighed. “Okay, but spending time with your friends does, right?”

“Depends on what you plan on doing,” Jean muttered.

“Ugh.” Laila shook her head. “I mean, Halloween itself is on a Wednesday, so we probably can’t do much the day of.” She shrugged. “Maybe we’ll go out this weekend or something.”

Jean shrugged. “I’m not dressing up,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Ugh. You’re no fun.” Laila shook her head, but she smiled. “But you’ll hang out with us?”

Jean shrugged. “You guys are my only friends, what else am I supposed to do with my night?”

“Aw, kid,” Laila patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, I guess?”

 

-

 

Their last game in October was an away game against UC Berkeley on the 26th. The game itself was a close one, and actually almost went into overtime, but each of the Trojan strikers scored in the last minute of the game to put them in the lead before the final buzzer sounded. The drive from Berkeley to LA wasn’t too long, but it was raining heavy enough in Northern California that the coaches made the decision to spend the night in the Bay Area instead of driving back overnight.

As soon as the team had gotten checked into the hotel, Laila and Alvarez had rounded up most of the Trojans who were of drinking age and taken them out. They rode the BART across the bay into San Francisco and eventually found their way to a college bar a few blocks from the subway. There were about 10 or 11 of them out, so they split up between two adjacent booths near the back of the room. Jean took the spot by the wall and Jeremy slid in next to him, followed by Sarah, while Laila, Alvarez, and Toby sat across from them. Darek, Drew, Jason, Ellie, and Nick took the other booth. Laila took drink orders and slipped out of the booth and made her way over to the bar. Alvarez followed after her after a minute, hooking an arm protectively around her waist up at the bar and helping her carry everyone’s drinks back when they were all ready.

The girls slid back into the booth and deposited all the drinks on the table. “M'kay,” Laila said, snatching up one of the drinks for herself. “Sort these out for yourselves.”

Jean inspected all the glasses and frowned. “Where’s mine?”

“Oh,” Alvarez said, waving her finger between herself and Laila. “We vetoed your choice, because honestly, it was boring and you’re the type of person who needs more color in his life.” She slid a brightly colored cocktail his way. “You’ll love it, and if you don’t I’ll get you something else, even if I think it’s a boring and terrible choice. I promise.”

Maybe it was the fact that they offered him that choice, that might have seemed insignificant to anyone else but was stupidly significant to someone who’d never been given any choices, that he accepted the drink they gave him. He wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of getting drunk in a strange place with so many strange people around him, but he was surrounded by people he trusted, and that was enough for the night. The Trojans kept doing that, kept fucking flooring him with tiny gestures. He wondered if they even knew they were doing it.

Jean had to admit he didn’t hate the drink the girls had picked out for him. It barely even tasted alcoholic (although he was sure it had enough in it that he’d have to be careful if he wanted to stay in control of his mental faculties), and it was vaguely sweet in a way Jean could actually enjoy. He was starting to wonder himself if his aversion to sweets was just more Raven conditioning. When Jean finished the drink and Toby accused him of liking “girly drinks” Jean sent him a vicious look he hadn’t used in a while, which made Toby snap his mouth shut and avert his gaze to the table. Sarah almost choked on her beer when she laughed.

Laila and Alvarez, meanwhile, were sending him smug grins, and Jeremy was smiling his sunshine-y smile. “Told you we have good taste,” Alvarez said.

Jean relaxed his face and shrugged, but by now the girls knew that was about as close to acquiescence as they would get from him. He drank two more drinks before cutting himself off, although his teammates went back for two more rounds after that. Jean was just passed tipsy and the rest of them looked pretty far gone themselves. To spite that, Laila got up after everyone had finished their fifth round and dragged Alvarez up with her saying, “Babe. More drinks. Help,” and pulled her towards the bar.

The slid out of the booth, and Toby hopped up after them. “Wait, I’ll come. I wanna order something to eat.”

“Ooh, food sounds good,” Sarah said with a slow, drunken smile. “I’m coming too.”

And then all four of them left, and Jean became very aware that it was just he and Jeremy left at the table. Jeremy seemed aware of that, too, because he turned sideways in his seat and planted an elbow on the table, resting his face in his hand. “You’re being awfully quiet tonight,” Jeremy told him.

Jean shrugged, turning in his seat to face Jeremy. “Not much to say.”

A worried little crease appeared between Jeremy’s eyebrows. “I don’t— Um. Are you— I mean. I don’t want—“

Jean let out an amused huff. “Use your words, Knox,” he said.

Jeremy nodded. “I’m drunk, gimme a second,” he said, waving a hand at Jean. “It’s just— I’m worried, we, like, pressured you into coming out tonight. I mean, you’re always quieter around the rest of them then when it’s just us,” he waved his finger between their chest. “I don’t wanna, like, force you into doing things you’re not comfortable with.”

Jean raised his eyebrows. “If I’m quieter around the team, it’s mostly just because you and Alvarez are so chatty it’s impossible to get a word in edgewise.”

Jeremy giggled softly but shook his head. “Nooo, seriously. Are you good?”

Jean was mostly just amused. The alcohol in his system was making everything seem lighter. But there was also something about Jeremy’s genuine concern and how damn soft his face was. “Yes, Jeremy, I’m good. Your concern is endearing but misplaced. Believe it or not I actually want to spend time with my friends sometimes.”

“Really?” Jeremy asked.

Jean nodded. “Really,” he said. Jeremy nodded, but his eyebrows were still pulling together. It made Jean frown. “What now?” He asked.

“Well, it’s just—" Jeremy made a face. “Do you actually like hanging out with me, or is it— Is it just because I’m, y’know,” Jeremy made a distressed little noise in the back of his throat and Jean didn’t want to think about how cute it sounded. Luckily Jeremy continued a second later. “I’m your roommate and your captain and— And you always had to— I don’t want—“ Jeremy shook his head, and for once Jean was perfectly aware of what he meant.

“Jeremy,” Jean started, sighing deeply. He leaned forward so he could speak quietly and only to Jeremy. He didn’t want anyone else- even any other Trojans- to hear this. “Don’t be ridiculous, okay? I’m convinced you’re the exact opposite of everything Riko and the rest of the Ravens stood for. If it were just the Raven-pair thing keeping me with you, I wouldn’t drink around you or wake you when I have nightmares or let you touch me. That’s a vulnerability _they_ would’ve taken advantage of. You’re—“ Jean cut himself off before he could say something really stupid. “I like spending time with you, okay? If it ever seems like anything else it’s just because I’ve never done this ‘friendship’ thing before, and I don’t really know how it works.”

Jeremy’s grin could’ve lit up the whole world. “Well, I think you’re doing really well at it.”

Jean thought that was debatable, but he didn’t want to take that smile off Jeremy’s face. He didn’t say anything and just laughed quietly. He never could have imagined his life ever would’ve lead him here.

“How do you do that?”

Jean’s attention snapped away from Jeremy to where the rest of his teammates were returning to the table.

“No, really,” Toby went on. “How do you do that?”

Jean had no idea what he was talking about. He raised one of his eyebrows. Jeremy turned forward in his seat as the four of them settled into the booth again. He looked over at Toby. “Do what?”

Toby set down his massive plate of fries and his drink and gestured vaguely towards Jeremy and Jean. “Make him be all nice and friendly and stuff.”

“Jean’s always nice,” Jeremy said with a shrug.

Even Jean thought that wasn’t true, and neither did Toby judging by the incredulous look he sent first Jeremy and then Jean.

“You just don’t spend enough time with him,” Laila volunteered. “I keep telling you guys he’s a cool dude.”

“Okay, but even so, Jeremy’s the only one who gets him all… happy and smiley and stuff.”

(Yikes. Was Jean really that obvious?)

“He’s Captain fucking Sunshine,” Jean said. “It rubs off on you.”

Alvarez apparently thought that was hilarious, because she snorted and laughed hard enough that she leaned forward to rest her head on the table. Laila, on the other hand, sent him a considering look.

“Where did this ‘Captain Sunshine’ thing even come from?” Jeremy asked indignantly.

“Dude,” Alvarez responded, sitting upright again. “You gotta admit it’s fitting.”

 

They didn’t end up leaving the bar until almost 1:00 in the morning, and they probably would’ve stayed longer if the game hadn’t drained most of their energy earlier that night. It was a bit of an ordeal getting 11 college students all at varying degrees of drunkenness safely onto the train and back across the bay to Berkeley, but they managed it eventually. The ride was just as unnerving to Jean to second time; being trapped in a train under literal tons of water was almost as bad as being trapped under a stadium. At least the train was brightly illuminated, and filled with the sounds of the Trojans friendly chatter.

It also didn’t hurt when Jeremy, drunkenly muttering about the cold, cozied up to Jean, leaning into him and resting his head on his shoulder. And if Jean looped his around around Jeremy in response, he could blame that on his inebriation and he fucking dared anyone to try and prove it had happened in the morning.

 

-

 

On Wednesday, Laila showed up to class in costume, and Jean tried to pretend he didn’t know her. He couldn’t manage that for long, since midterms were coming up and they were working on a presentation together. She wasn’t the only one in costume, but Jean still frowned at the idea of sitting next to a woman wearing a costume in the middle of a college classroom. Laila didn’t want to hear his complaints, though, and after one insistent, “It’s Halloween, Jean, live with it,” she kept them focused solely on their project.

For the most part.

At about an hour into the 90-minute class, Laila sighed and dropped her pen, looking up from the notes she’d been working on and pushing everything away from her across the table. “Ugh,” she said, frowning. “College is going to kill me, Jean. Cause of fucking death: having to overanalyze obscure and ridiculously boring passages for English Lit class.”

Jean raised and eyebrow and pushed his own notes away. “Would you like to take a break, Dermott?”

“Please,” Laila said, flopping back in her seat for a minute before springing up and sliding the chair into the table. “Come with me to the café. I need something caffeinated.”

Jean got up after her, shrugging. He wouldn’t mind a break from the monotony for a moment.

He followed Laila to the bottom floor of the building where a little café was nestled in the wall between classrooms. It wasn’t the best place on campus, but it was the closest, and one of the cheapest. And as Laila frequently reminded him, coffee was coffee. Laila had no desire to return to class right away, and their professor had given the class free time to work on their projects, so they found a table in the café and sat with their drinks.

Laila seemed content to just sit and sip her large coffee at first, but the Trojans could never refrain from talking for too long. Even Laila, one of the calmest of Jean’s teammates, had too much on her mind to stay silent. She drummed the fingernails of one hand against the table. “Can I ask you something?”

Jean shrugged. “I’m fairly certain you just did.”

“Ha ha, Moreau.” Laila rolled her eyes. “Okay fine. Just, be straight with me for a second. Or, wait, poor choice of words. Be _real_ with me, okay?”

Her tone made him vaguely nervous, but he gestured for her to continue.

Laila frowned, working her jaw like she was trying to figure out what she wanted to say. Finally, she sighed and just went right for the kill. “Are you hooking up with Jeremy?”

Jean was thankful he hadn’t been taking a sip, but he still almost choked on the air he was breathing. It took him a minute to find words, but he finally managed to choke out a startled, “Excuse me?”

Laila banged her hand on the table loudly enough that Jean probably would’ve flinched if this had been a few weeks ago or if Laila hadn’t just asked what she did and completely knocked him sideways. “Oh my god! You are, aren’t you? Holy shit!”

“What?” Jean shook his head. “I— no— wh— Why would you think that?”

Laila shook her head impatiently. “Honestly, I didn’t until San Francisco. I mean, everyone was else thought you were already. Remember that movie night we had back in the summer? And you and Jeremy left early? Everyone was positive you were going off somewhere to hook up.” Laila gestured expansively with her hands the entire time she talked. “I wasn’t convinced. I was like, this is Jeremy Knox. He can’t keep a secret to save his life. And he’d tell his best friends about something like that, right? But than Alvarez said you guys were, like, holding hands in the hallway, and, I dunno. After what Toby said at the bar, and the way you two were cuddling up together on the train, I keep thinking about it and I think they might be onto something.”

“Wait— the team thinks—“ Jean shook his head, eyes wide. “Laila, I— That wasn’t—” He gave his head another shake, unable to find the proper words for this situation.

Luckily, Laila seemed to be able to interpret what he was going for. She raised an eyebrow and looked skeptically at him. “You’re not?”

“No.” Jean shook his head a third time.

“Nothing’s going on between you two?”

“No,” Jean said again. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and hoped his blush didn’t look as obvious as it felt. He stammered for a few seconds before he managed to say, “We’re friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Jean nodded, and Laila hummed. “Alright,” she conceded. She set her cup down on the table, tapping one of her fingers against her chin thoughtfully. “Okay, okay. So you’re not hooking up.” She stopped the tapping and pointed her finger at Jean. “Can I ask you something else?”

Thinking nothing could possibly be worse than the line of questioning he’d just endured, Jean nodded and said, “Go for it,” and was immediately proven wrong.

“Why aren’t you?” She asked.

Jean put his face in his hands. “ _Mon dieu_ , Laila, what the hell?”

“Okay, just, hear me out for a second.” Laila put her hands up in a gesture which was somehow both consoling and defensive. “Toby was right, at the bar, when he said you’re happiest around Jeremy. You get so… _soft_ with him. It’s like, I dunno. You guys light up around each other. It’s honestly kind of disgusting, watching you make fucking heart-eyes at each other whenever you’re in the same room.”

“We don’t—“ Jean swallowed, shaking his head. It wasn’t like she was wrong. Jean had never accounted for someone like Jeremy. In his dark world, he’d never expected to get to spend so much time around the sun. He’d lied to the world for years, pretending everything was fine when Riko broke him down every day, but something about Jeremy fucking Knox left him tongue-tied and dizzy.

Laila’s response to that was to level an intense stare at him and raise her eyebrows.

“It’s doesn’t matter,” Jean managed to say.

Laila tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“None of what you just said matters. Nothing will ever happen with Jeremy,” Jean told her, meeting her stare.

“And why the hell not, exactly?”

The very idea was laughable. It wasn’t like Jeremy would ever feel that way about Jean. Whatever sort of friendship they’d formed this year would end at the end of the school year, and Jeremy would be free to find someone decent to spend his time with. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me right now. It almost sounded like you were serious.”

“I’m dead serious, bud,” she said.

“Well, you’re being ridiculous.” Jean did laugh, but it was a cold, biting sound. “There’s no reason for someone like Jeremy to ever get involved with someone like me. I’m barely even a person anymore after the Nest, Laila.”

Laila stared at him in silence for a while in what he thought- hoped- was acceptance. Turned out it wasn’t. She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you’re, what, not good enough for him, or something?”

Jean thought that was obvious, and the only response he gave was sending Laila a blank stare.

“Jesus Christ,” Laila pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Okay, you know what—“

“We should get back to class,” Jean said, standing up abruptly.

“What? No, Jean—“

“We have a project to finish,” Jean said, turning and striding out of the café.

After a minute Laila followed and caught up with him, jabbing a finger at him. “This is not over, Moreau. We are _not_ done talking about this.”

Jean ignored her, and picked up his pace. Laila made an exasperated noise, but to her credit she didn’t try to say anything else. Maybe she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with him right now.

 

-

 

Luckily for Jean, Laila seemed to forget the topic when Monday came and brought with it midterm exams. Jean never saw Alvarez without a cup of coffee in her hands, and since Laila shared half of his classes she kept turning up at odd hours to study and go over material. The entire team seemed on edge to the point that their practices were tense and more aggressive than usual. Even Jean was starting to feel the stress, although that was more due to him absorbing the tension of those around him than any real worry he might be feeling about tests or grades. School wasn’t much of a problem for him. As long as he got good enough grades to keep playing Exy, that was all that mattered, and that had never been a problem for him. Even if he got mediocre grades, he was doing well enough now that it wouldn’t do enough damage to ruin his GPA.

Perhaps the worst part of the week was Jeremy. He was jittery and quiet and even on the court he didn’t have the presence he usually did. He kept his team in line, but he seemed distracted. It took Jean a while to figure out he was anxious about exams. Jean had seen him like this once before, the night before the season opener back in the beginning of the school year, but that had been an isolated incident and Jean had managed to talk him through it. This was another beast entirely. This was pent up tension not likely to break until the week was over, and Jean had no idea how to deal with it. All he could do was stand by and feel helpless. That wasn’t a new emotion, but it was new to feel that way about someone else’s struggle. Normally the only helplessness he felt was when he was facing Riko in a particularly bad mood.

By Thursday Jean had had enough of sitting by being useless, and he finally intervened. He didn’t know how to help, but he could think back on all the little ways Jeremy had helped him to piece together a plan he hoped would be sufficient. Jean got out of class with time to spare before practice, and when he got back to the dorm he found Jeremy already there. He was sitting on the living room floor with papers all around him and a text book open by his knee, which was bounding up and down slightly. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, like he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. Jean’s first thought was how badly such an obvious display of vulnerability would’ve been exploited in the Nest, but he shoved that thought down. If he wanted to help Jeremy at all, he couldn’t be thinking about the Ravens.

He walked over and stopped in front of Jeremy. He held his hand in front of Jeremy’s face until he had to look up and away from whatever he was working on.

“You have a desk in the bedroom, you know,” Jean said, nudging the textbook with his toes.

Jeremy shrugged, leaning back on his hands to look up at Jean. “More room out here.”

That wasn’t what Jean had wanted to talk about, though, so he switched tactics. “Do you trust me, Knox?”

Jeremy blinked at him. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that. Eventually he nodded. “Of course.”

“Good,” Jean said, stamping down any remaining reservations and holding out his hand. “Then give me your keys and come with me.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “What? Why?”

“No, none of that. No questions. You said you trust me, so trust me.” He flexed his finger expectantly, waiting for Jeremy to hand over his keys. It was taking a lot for him to keep this up, but seeing Jeremy so tense had lent him a bit of strength.

Jeremy sat still long enough Jean thought he’d have to repeat himself, but he finally responded. Instead of keys, he grabbed Jean’s hand with his own and let Jean pull him to his feet. Once he was standing he pulled his key ring from his pocket and handed them over.

“Good,” Jean said. “Let’s go.” He waited by the door long enough for Jeremy to slip on some shoes and lead him down the stairs to the ground floor of the dorms. It was unseasonably warm, but Jean blamed that on Southern California’s absurd climate. It was November and he still didn’t know if ‘winter’ was a real thing around here. He found Jeremy’s bright yellow car parked near the back of the lot and got the doors unlocked. Jeremy leaned over the roof before they could get in.

“So you’re driving?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Obviously. You don’t even know where we’re going,” Jean said, aiming for over-confident condescension to cover up the fact that he was actually about as wracked with anxiety as Jeremy right now.

It was a relief when Jeremy cracked a smile. “Alrighty then,” he said, getting into the passenger seat.

They didn’t go far. Jean piled into the driver's seat and took them across campus to a little park about a mile away. Jean had spotted the place on one of his and Jeremy’s trips around town before summer practices even started, but he hadn’t thought to come back until today. There was a big grassy field taking up almost a full block, and on one side a string of food carts was parked by the curb. Jean parked nearby.

“Am I allowed to ask questions now?” Jeremy said.

“I think you just asked one,” Jean pointed out. “Might as well ask another.”

That got a laugh out of Jeremy. “What are we doing here?”

Jean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “We are going to sit in the grass and enjoy the sun, and we are going to eat food from those food carts over there that is so greasy it would have Riko rolling in his grave, and you are not going to think about midterms.”

“Wow. A man with a plan,” Jeremy said. “What about practice?”

Jean hadn’t thought about that. It should be starting in about half an hour, but Jean thought this was a plan that required more time than that. “Forget about practice,” he finally said.

“Come on, Jean,” Jeremy tried to reason with him. “We have a game tomorrow. I can’t miss practice.”

Jean shook his head. “Yes you can. You said it: you’re allowed to take time for yourself.”

“Okay, but, I’m team captain. That’s not—"

“Jeremy,” Jean cut him off. “The team can manage without you for a day. They have Alvarez and four coaches. Take your own advice before you break.”

Jeremy considered him for a while. He ran his hand through his already mussed-up hair and dipped his head in acquiescence. “Well, at least you should go. You don’t have to miss practice because of me.”

Jean thought back on that disastrous break down he’d had a few weeks back, what Jeremy had said and how he’d handled it. “Do you want me to leave?”

Jeremy bit his lip. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Jean took a deep breath. It was outrageously hard to take care of someone with anxiety when he himself had enough mental issues to fill a stadium. He drummed his fingers once against the steering wheel and met Jeremy’s brown eyes. “What I want is to be there for you, like you’ve been for me too many times to count. Now, do you want me to stay?”

Jeremy opened his mouth but didn’t seem to find any words, because he closed it again and just nodded.

Jean nodded in return. “Okay. Good. I’ll text Alvarez and tell her we’re not coming to practice today.” He pulled out his phone before Jeremy could protest and sent a quick message to Alvarez. Her response was almost immediate, but all it was was a ‘;-)’ emoticon that Jean didn’t quite understand. He didn’t send anything back.

He and Jeremy bought Thai food from one of the food trucks and went to eat it in the grass under a tree. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and speckled Jean’s skin in a pleasant way. Even so far out of the Nest, it still felt unbelievably liberating just to be able to sit and look at the endless expanse of sky.

Jeremy’s shoulders looked more relaxed as they sat and ate, but he was still dead silent. Jean had never been one to fill silences unnecessarily, but for Jeremy he’d try. “You know,” he started. “I meant it when I say this food would have Riko rolling in his grave. If he or the master knew I was eating it,” he shook his head, smiling thinly. It was getting easier to defy the Moriyama branch family the longer he stayed at USC.

He wasn’t expecting the blank look on Jeremy’s face when he looked up at him, and it was bewildering enough to wipe the smile from Jean’s face. He was about to ask what was wrong when Jeremy spoke. “Back up. Riko and the _whatthefuck_ now?”

Jean mentally replayed his words and felt his insides turn to ice. He hadn’t even realized he’d slipped up so bad, and now there was no taking it back. It was his own fault, really. He’d let himself become so comfortable with Jeremy that he was saying things he shouldn’t. He needed to be more careful. “Coach Moriyama,” he corrected, quietly, after a minute of tense silence.

“Jean.”

Jean didn’t look at Jeremy; he paid more attention to the way the sunlight danced on his skin through the leafs above.

“ _Jean_ ,” Jeremy sounded more urgent now.

Jean just shook his head. “It was just what the team had to call him,” he explained.

He risked a glance up at Jeremy and couldn’t read whatever was on his face, but then Jeremy caught his eyes and whatever it was softened into something else. “You don’t think of him like that, right?”

Jean couldn’t really tell him the truth. For ten years he’d only ever been property. It was hard to break conditioning that went that deep. This was not where this day was supposed to be going. He should’ve lied; telling the truth was unthinkable, but lying the Jeremy was hard. He settled on a shaky middle ground that still told too much. “It’s complicated,” was all he said.

“That man is not anyone’s master, okay? He’s an abusive asshole who’s so terrible he’s been disowned from a sport he helped create.”

It was weird hearing Jeremy speak so harshly about anything. Maybe Jean was rubbing off on him. “I know,” Jean said. “It’s still complicated.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows bunched together and he shook his head. “I hate that you had to spend so much of your life there,” he said.

“Me, too,” Jean admitted. _This is not what was supposed to happen today_ , he thought. “Can we just… Not talk about it anymore?”

Jeremy looked down at his takeout and sighed, but he relented. “Of course,” he said. “Actually,” he perked up, looking back up at Jean. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Jean raised his eyebrows, thankful for the easy change of topic. “Yes?”

Jeremy drummed his fork on the edge of his takeout container. “Well, I was just wondering, er, do you have any plans for Thanksgiving break yet?”

It wasn’t what Jean was expecting, and it caught him off guard. He hadn’t even realized break was coming up. Breaks weren’t a thing in the Nest, and even if they had been it wasn’t like Jean would’ve had anywhere to go. The Ravens had been all he had for a decade. Now he had to figure out what to do with himself for a week while the rest of his teammates all went home to their respective families. Renee had invited him to spend Christmas with her, but she likely wouldn’t be able to fly him out for just a few days over Thanksgiving. More likely than not he’d be stuck alone in the dorm. He shook his head. “I have nowhere to go,” he said.

“About that,” Jeremy said. He chewed on his bottom lip and finally said. “Um, would you maybe like to come home with me? I mean, my family lives close by. My parents’ house is out in Pasadena, and I just thought, maybe you could. Come with me.” He raced through his words in a way Jean had learned was nervousness.

“You… Want me to come to your home for Thanksgiving?” Jean asked.

“I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought it might be fun. If you want. My dad’s a pretty sweet cook so Thanksgiving dinner’s gonna be great.”

Jean was a little gobsmacked. “No, that sounds nice. I’ve… never celebrated the holidays before.”

“Wait, never?” Jeremy frowned. “Not even when you were a kid?”

“Jeremy, my parents shipped me off to live under a stadium when I was eleven. Do you really think they would be the type of people to give a damn about things like that?”

Jeremy looked genuinely crushed, but he rallied with a smile. “Well, the Knoxes go all out, so maybe we can make up for that.”

Jean thought that as long as he didn’t have to spend the break underground it would be a marked improvement from any holidays he’d had in the past. But he didn’t want to bring down the mood when Jeremy finally seemed to be relaxing, so he just nodded and smiled softly in return. The expression still felt alien on his face, but it was getting to be a more comfortable thing the longer he was stayed in California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone's curious, laila is dressed as princess leia ~~because alvarez once made a pun that their names sounded similar.~~ (((and alvarez was definitely dressed as han solo))) i wouldve included that detail in the chapter itself but jean's never seen star wars and has no idea what she's dressed as


	10. Chapter 10

Jean was glad to see the end of midterms, and the game Friday night was a good way for the team to release the collective tension that had built up over a week of stressful exams and tedious projects. The next few weeks were easier to handle, although the final game before break turned into a total disaster.

“It’s not that bad,” Alvarez insisted at full volume, moving like she was about to leap off the bench. “I can keep playing. They didn’t have to pull me!”

“Shut up,” Laila said, planting a hand firmly on her girlfriend’s chest to keep her from getting up again. Laila should’ve stayed in goal for the rest of the half, but when Alvarez had to be hauled off the court by the team nurse, Laila had demanded she be subbed and followed her off. The Trojans had players to spare, so Campos had agreed and sent on another of her goalkeepers with Rhemann’s blessing. The Trojans were working up to playing full games, so Jean had stayed on court for the remainder of the half, but he’d felt a spike of panic watching his injured teammate head off the court. That was new for him, but he let himself feel it, and as soon as the buzzer sounded for halftime he’d made his way over to where the girls were seated on the home bench.

“It’s just a sprain,” Alvarez complained, flexing her toes while the nurse inspected her ankle, but her bravado didn’t hold up when even that subtle movement in her foot made her wince.

Jean sat on the bench nearby, watching with his arms crossed. “You sound like a Raven,” he told her. “If I’m not allowed to bring that attitude on the court, neither are you.”

That got the desired result. Alvarez’s eyes went wide and she slumped back in the bench, biting back whatever retort she had been planning to give. Laila sent him an approving smile.

“You should really get this x-rayed,” the nurse said, looking up at Alvarez. “There might be a fracture in there somewhere, and I don’t want to exacerbate it by prodding around right now.”

“See?” Laila snapped. “‘ _I can keep playing_ ’ my ass!”

Alvarez rolled her eyes. To the nurse, she said, “I’ll go after the game. I wanna see how this turns out.”

“We’ll win, that’s how it’ll turn out,” Laila said. “You know we will.”

“Still!” Alvarez insisted. “I just want to watch my damn team play, can I do that? It’s just a sprained ankle, it’s not life threatening.”

Laila scowled and crossed her arms in silent acceptance. “I’m gonna punch Hensen in the face,” she grumbled.

“No, you’re not, babe. It was a legal check. He didn’t even get carded.”

“Which was bullshit,” Laila snapped. Jean knew all the venom in her voice came from worry, not genuine anger.

“It’s not his fault,” Alvarez argued. “He was within his rights to check me. How was he supposed to know I’d trip over the ball? That’s my own stupid ass fault.”

“She should be fine waiting here as long as she stays off the ankle,” the nurse cut in, interrupting the girls bickering. “I’ll get you some ice.”

Jeremy made his way over when the nurse left, taking a seat on the bench beside Jean. “You okay, Alvarez?”

“I’m good,” Alvarez said.

“Good? She might have a broken ankle, and she wants to keep playing,” Laila said spitefully.

“No I don’t,” Alvarez shot back. “Jean was right. That’s way too Raven-y, I’m okay sitting out.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrows. “Should you go to the hospital or something?”

“She will,” Laila said.

“After the game,” Jean supplied helpfully.

Jeremy looked between the three of them and shrugged. “Alright?”

At that point the nurse returned with a plastic bag filled with ice. Alvarez laid her leg across Laila’s lap and let her girlfriend ice her ankle. Kate and Sarah came over to fawn over their injured teammate, so Jean tuned them out in favor of talking to Jeremy, who had his usual ramped up game night energy. Jean used to find it exhausting dealing with Jeremy and the Trojans on game nights, since everyone was so hyped up and happy, but he was getting used to it now. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to mirror their energy, but it at least didn’t make him want to crawl into his bed and disappear anymore.

After the game, Laila tasked Jean with helping her get Alvarez down to the changing rooms. He was normally one of the first ones off the court and into the locker rooms, but today he and Laila were some of the last ones to leave, with Alvarez braced between them. Jean was convinced Laila could handle it herself, but they were his friends so he didn’t mind offering a little extra support. He usually left before any reporters got close enough to ask him anything, but today he was still standing in the inner ring near the home benches, Alvarez’s arm draped over his shoulder so he could take her weight while Laila collected their helmets and gloves when they came for post game interviews with the team.

Jean tried to ignore them, turning away and focusing on the girls, but he’d refused to give any interviews since leaving the Ravens and the Exy world was getting antsy about it. As soon as he was spotted he knew he’d have questions thrown at him. He was expecting questions about the Ravens, but what he wasn't expecting was for one bold woman with a microphone to throw him a question which made his blood freeze.

“Jean Moreau!” She called, “how does it feel to be the last of Riko’s perfect Court to still have your tattoo?”

Jean froze, and Alvarez must have noticed him go completely rigid because he felt her tense up at his side as well. He didn’t realize he’d reached for his tattoo until he felt his own fingers graze his cheekbone. He was thankful he was turned away from the cameras, that wasn’t really something he wanted them to see.

Jean had no idea how long he stood there, frozen, but Laila’s voice jarred him back to reality. “Alright, we’re leaving,” she thrust his helmet into his free hand and went to Alvarez’s other side. “Let’s go, go, go.”

Alvarez tugged on Jean to get him moving, and even though he was supposed to be supporting her with her injured ankle it was more she who guided Jean out of the inner ring and through the locker room door. “I’m starting to understand why Neil Josten is so savage in interviews.” Alvarez admitted once the door swung shut behind them and they were safely away from prying ears.

“What do you mean?” Jeremy had gone ahead of them, but he came to meet them in the team room before Laila could get Alvarez to the changing room. “What happened with the press?” He looked between the three of them, eyes settling on the dead look on Jean’s face.

“Not much, but it was nothing good,” Laila said. “Just some nosy bitch talking about Riko.”

“She asked about these,” Alvarez tapped the spot on her left cheekbone where Jean knew he still wore his number.

Jean still couldn’t speak, but he shrugged Alvarez off of him and let Laila take her weight. He didn’t stop to listen to whatever else they had to say to him, he just pushed forward to the changing room. He made it as far as his locker before he really registered what had happened. It was just a stupid question, it shouldn’t make him freeze up like this. But that reporter was right, wasn’t she? He was the last of Riko’s inner circle who still had his number. Riko himself was dead, Neil Josten’s ‘4’ had been burned off by the Butcher’s people, and Kevin covered his ‘2’ with that bold black chess piece. But his ‘3’ was still right there, a permanent reminder of his place in the world. How could he ever possibly move on when he was literally branded?

He knew the locker room was crowded, but luckily the energy was still high enough after the game that no one was able to really notice Jean breaking.

Well, not no one.

This late in the game Jean should have stopped being surprised by anything Jeremy Knox did. “Jean? Jean, hey.”

He was still standing in front of his locker, and he focused on the red metal and the gold number nine. He blinked and looked over at Jeremy, who was standing about a foot away, still in his court gear with his helmet under his arm.

“C’mon, get changed. We can talk back at the dorm,” Jeremy said when Jean had nothing to offer. Jean nodded and turned to get his locker unlocked. He watched Jeremy head over to his own locker in his peripheral vision. He showered and changed as quickly as humanly possible and waited on a couch in the team room for Jeremy to finish up. He didn’t want to leave the stadium alone and face whatever crowd had gathered out there. Laila and Alvarez were nowhere in sight, but Drew and Ellie, who’d handled the press, were just coming back.

“Are you okay dude?” Ellie asked, stopping on her way down to the changing rooms. Drew stopped at her side and sent Jean a concerned look.

Jean responded by staring at the wall and ignoring them completely.

“Right,” Ellie said. “If you need anything, we’re here.” She grabbed Drew and hauled him off.

Jean believed them, but there were only a select few Trojans he had the energy to deal with right now. Luckily, Jeremy didn’t leave him waiting long, and he knew well enough not to try and talk to Jean till they got back to their room. They sat on opposite sides of the couch, facing each other.

“Alright Moreau, talk to me. If you want to, of course,” Jeremy said.

Jean didn’t know if he could explain what was really eating at him without getting into truths he could never tell. He stared out the window and debated not saying anything at all. There were a millions reasons to just keep quiet, but there was a little part of Jean that just badly wanted to talk to Jeremy. “I’m the only one who still has this,” he said, pressing his thumb against his cheekbone. “Josten’s is gone, Kevin’s is covered up, Riko’s—" He shook his head.

“Oh, “Jeremy said.

“It just—“ Jean didn’t know if he could find the words. And if he put the words out there, he couldn’t take them back and it would make it so much more real. “All I’m ever going to be is Riko’s number three.”

“You know that’s not true,” Jeremy said softly. “You’re so much more than that.”

“But it’s all anyone will ever see me as,” Jean insisted. It was hard for him to even voice it, but he’d spent so long feeling like property, and after spending a few months with the Trojans he was beginning to think maybe he could be more. But that damn ‘3’ was a reminder that, really, how could he ever be?

Jeremy sighed, frowning slightly. “You know we don’t see you that way, right?”

“Still,” Jean shook his head. “It’s all I’ve ever been allowed to be. I wish I knew how Kevin moved passed it.” Of course, he answered his own question almost as soon as he said it. Kevin was Riko’s pet, but he was always important to Tetsuji’s plans. Jean wasn’t. He was just a transaction and nothing more.

“Kevin had the Foxes,” Jeremy said, “and you have the Trojans.” He paused for a second, searching Jean’s face. “You have me. We’ll help you move passed it too.” He reached out and gently rubbed his thumb over Jean’s tattoo, which was definitely enough to derail whatever dark path Jean’s mind was going down. He dropped his hand too soon and sighed. “I wish I knew how to help you better.”

Jean shook his head. He wanted to tell Jeremy he'd already done more than enough, that all he had to do was just keep being _him_ , but he couldn't find the words.

 

-

 

Thanksgiving break started on Wednesday, meaning USC only had classes on Monday and Tuesday. Rhemann had also made the decision to cancel practice for the entire week. Jeremy was vocally approving of this plan, since it meant he got to sleep in for an entire week. Jean hadn’t been away from Exy for so long since his time at Abby’s; he wouldn’t even pick up a racquet again until the Monday after break. It was easier to handle knowing he’d be spending the week with Jeremy, but he still got antsy at the idea of spending so much time off the court.

Although a good deal of students had hightailed it back home on Tuesday night, Jean and Jeremy didn’t leave until Wednesday. They packed their bags in the morning, ate breakfast in the dorm, and hit the road by early afternoon. The drive to Jeremy’s family home in Pasadena was a short one, and Jeremy filled the entire thing with nervous chatter. Jean didn’t know what he possibly had to be nervous about; if anything Jean should be the one doing the worrying here.

They pulled into his driveway around 1:00. Jeremy’s house was a two-story building with a soft brown paint job and a porch that looked like it wrapped around the entire house. There was a porch swing in one corner of the deck, and a bunch of miscellaneous lawn furniture scattered around the entire thing. Before Jean could get out, Jeremy stopped him. “Just to warn you, my family’s kind of… intense,” he said. “I have five siblings, but you’ll only meet four of them. My big sister Michelle’s studying abroad and couldn’t make it home. But the rest of them are all younger than me and they’re… A lot. In a good way, but still. They’re great. They’ll love you.”

The last time Jeremy had described someone as ‘intense’ he’d met Laila and Alvarez. He didn’t know what that did to his anticipation of meeting the Knox family. "I don’t know why you’re so worried, this is your family,” Jean commented.

Jeremy tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “What? I’m not— I’m not worried.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know you only blabber like that when you’re nervous, Jeremy.”

Jeremy looked a bit taken aback. He made and face and sighed. “It’s just… After everything you’ve been through, I just want you to have a good time, you know? I want this to be a good holiday.”

It hadn’t even crossed Jean’s mind that _he_ might be the source of Jeremy’s nerves. “Jeremy, you do realize where I spent the last ten Thanksgivings, right? I already know your family will be better company.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Good point.”

“Now, are we going in, or what?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.” They got out of the car and grabbed their bags from the backseat. Jeremy lead the way to the front door, digging around on his keyring until he found the appropriate key. He opened the door and stepped in, Jean following on his heels. “Hey,” Jeremy called into the house. “It’s Jeremy, I’m ho—“

He was cut off when a massive wall of fur slammed into him and almost knocked him off his feet. Jean took an alarmed step back before he realized it was just a gigantic dog. Jeremy laughed. “Good to see you too, buddy.” The dog was trying to jump up and lick Jeremy’s face, and on its hind legs it was almost as tall as Jeremy himself. “Okay, get down,” he said, trying to push the dog off him, but the dog seemed pretty insistent on mauling its owner until it spotted Jean. Noticing a new person in its house, it managed to knock Jeremy off his feet this time as it barreled past him to the front door. Jean braced himself, but the dog had the good graces not to leap up on him. It settled for sniffing and licking at his hands.

Jeremy picked himself up off his feet and grabbed the dog by his collar. “Okay, you silly puppy, that’s enough.” He looked up at Jean sheepishly. “Anyway, this is Pickle. He loves everyone, sometimes a little too much. Sorry about that.”

Jean didn’t really know how to respond, but he didn’t have to. At that point someone had taken notice of the commotion by the front door and came to investigate. “Jer?” the woman called, stepping into the front hallway.

Jeremy let go of the dogs collar and spun around, a grin appearing on his face. Fortunately the dog seemed more interested in Jeremy and the new arrival to pay Jean any more attention. “Mom!”

Jeremy’s mother's smile was one of the warmest things Jean had ever seen. It wasn’t hard to figure out where Jeremy got his own radiance from. He tried to remember his own mother, but even though he only had vague memories of her he knew she’d never been that warm. She’d been distant and brisk and had honestly ignored Jean whenever she could, a consequence of living as a gangster indebted to the yakuza.

“It’s good to see you, love,” Jeremy’s mother said to her son, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You too,” Jeremy said. Jean realized Jeremy was the same height as his mother. He pulled away after a minute and remembered Jean was there. “Mom, this is Jean, Jean, this is my mom, Liliana.” Jeremy made the introductions, grinning widely.

Liliana’s smile didn’t falter when she looked at Jean. She shooed the dog away with some considerable difficulty and reached a hand out to Jean. Jean took it and shook. “Welcome, Jean. It’s so lovely to finally meet you. Jeremy’s told me so much about you.”

Jean blinked. “He has?”

Liliana laughed. “Oh, yes. All good things, of course. He obviously adores you.”

Jean hoped the heat in his cheeks didn’t look as obvious as it felt. He avoided looking at Jeremy and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Oh,” he said. “Uhm. Good to know. It’s good to meet you too.”

Liliana grinned, but Jeremy cut her off before she could say anything else. “Where’s everyone else?” He asked. Jean didn’t think he was imagining that Jeremy was blushing a bit, too, when he finally looked up at him.

Liliana turned to face her son. “I think Sasha’s upstairs in her room, but your dad and the kids went out to the store to buy some last minute supplies for tomorrow. They should be back any minute now. Why don’t you two put your things away and come down to wait for them?”

Jeremy nodded. “Sounds good. Jean, I’ll show you around, yeah?”

Jean nodded. “Alright.” Jeremy’s mother disappeared back into the living room, and Jeremy lead Jean down the hallway until the reached the staircase. There were a mess of family photos lining the walls that Jean didn’t take the time to inspect as he followed Jeremy upstairs, but made a note to look at later. At the top of the stairs a hallway branched out in two directions.

Jeremy pointed off to the right. “My parent’s room is down there,” he said, and then turned left. “We’re going this way.” The first door they passed was open. “That’s the bathroom,” Jeremy said. Another door just passed it on the other side of the hall was closed. “My little sister Sasha’s room," Jeremy stopped at the next door on the left after the bathroom. “This is my room,” Jeremy explained, pushing the door open. “You can sleep in here, and I’m gonna take my big sister's room while she’s out of town, because I don’t think she wants strange men in her space while she’s not there.”

Jean followed Jeremy inside and looked around. The idea of a childhood home was alien to Jean. Even back in Marseille he’d moved around a lot, thanks of his parents’ business. They went where the Moriyamas wanted them. But Jeremy’s entire house was so very lived in, and his room held the evidence of an entire childhood. He set his bag down by the bed and looked back to Jeremy. “Why is your dog named Pickle?”

Jeremy clearly wasn’t expecting that. He laughed. “Oh. Hah. My baby sister named him when she was four.”

Jean let himself chuckle softly at the idea.

Jeremy cocked his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jean said, shaking his head gently. “It’s just, if a year ago someone tried to tell me I’d ever be standing in Jeremy Knox’s bedroom hearing him tell me about his ridiculously named dog, I would’ve laughed in their face. I never thought this was where my life would take me.”

“Oh,” Jeremy smiled. “Er, is that a good thing?”

“Of course,” Jean said. “You know what the alternative would be.”

“I mean, fair enough,” Jeremy agreed. “But, ‘better than the Nest’ seems like a pretty low bar. Like, that bar is practically on the floor.”

Jean shook his head. “We have already been over this, Knox, I like spending time with you. I just meant there was a point in my life where I genuinely thought I’d never get to enjoy things again.”

Jeremy crossed his arms and nodded. “That kinda breaks my heart, to be honest.”

Jean didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t have to. The sound of a car pulling up outside drew both of their attention. “Ready to meet the rest of the Knoxes?” Jeremy asked.

Jean shrugged. “I’m dying to meet the child who thought ‘Pickle’ was a decent name for an animal.”

Jeremy laughed. “Alright, come on,” he beckoned Jean out of the room. He dropped his bag off and took Jean into the living room at the end of the entrance hall.

Jeremy hadn’t been lying when he said his family was intense. Jeremy had four younger siblings, all of whom looked remarkably similar to their oldest brother, and Jean met all of them in the span of about five minutes. The oldest after Jeremy, Sasha, was 15 and the tips of her hair were dyed light purple. That combined with her sweet smiles kind of reminded Jean of Renee. His 12-year-old brother, James, actually seemed rather star-struck when he saw Jean. Apparently, even with his brother captaining the Trojans, James had somehow managed to become a Ravens fan (something Jean made a mental note to harass Jeremy about later) and had been unaware their former starting backlines would be spending Thanksgiving with in his house. He’d stared openly at Jean for a minute before rounding on Jeremy and practically shouting at him, “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing _Jean Moreau_ into our house?!” and stalking into the kitchen.

Jean thought James and Colin, the other one of Jeremy’s younger brothers, were twins, because they looked almost identical, but it turned out there was a year's age difference between them. And then there was the youngest, Talia, who was nine, and seemed more interested in the dog than her older brother being home for the first time in weeks.

Jean was surprised to learn that Jeremy’s father, Charlie, was nearly fluent in French after spending a year in Paris between college and grad school. Jean hadn’t been able to use the language in months, and it was nice to be able to speak it again. He felt a flutter of nerves openly speaking the language. It was forbidden in the Nest, and he’d always and to whisper it and use it in secret with Kevin, and then briefly with Neil. But now he could use it freely. It still felt like a rebellion, and it made him feel better knowing he was strong enough to speak it.

Jeremy was stunned by their conversation. “What the hell, dad? Why didn’t you tell me you could speak French?”

“Jer, I lived in France for a year,” he pointed out. “What was I supposed to do, stumble my way around and hope I came across someone who spoke English every time I left the apartment?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t teach me any,” Jeremy said, crossing his arms. “You have to teach me,” he added.

“Jeremy,” Jean cut it. “I’m your roommate and French is my native language. If you wanted to learn you could’ve asked me at any time.”

Jeremy looked like he genuinely hadn’t considered that before. “You’d teach me French?”

“I mean,” Jean shrugged. “I taught Kevin. I wouldn’t mind being able to speak it more often.”

Jeremy smiled nodded at that. “Cool,” he said.

Jeremy had a way of derailing Jean’s thought process with his sunny smiles. He completely forgot what he’d been saying to Jeremy’s father, but at that point one of the other kids had snagged his attention anyway.

By the time Jean went to bed that night he felt more exhausted than he had in years, but he didn’t think it was a bad feeling. He still couldn’t understand their easy acceptance, but Jeremy’s family and been genuinely warm and welcoming all night. He had to fight not to feel overwhelmed, but he thought he managed it. The hardest part of the evening was being in a room alone in the dark to sleep. But, when he turned out the lights, little stars blinked to life on the ceiling. Jean was surprised for about a millisecond before he remembered who he was dealing with. Of course Jeremy would stick glow in the dark stars up in his room.

 

-

 

Jeremy had told Jean that his family liked to do it up big for the holidays, but Jean didn’t really have a point of reference so really anything would’ve been impressive to him. Jeremy’s parents spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen prepping food, and Jeremy managed to get Jean into the living room where the television was to watch some movies.

“You’ve never seen Star Wars before, and we own copies of the entire original trilogy. This is like, required viewing,” he insisted, grabbing a stack of DVDs off one of the shelves beside the TV.

Jean raised an eyebrow but chose not to argue. There were far worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching movies with Jeremy Knox. He didn’t understand all the hype surrounding the movies, but they weren’t necessarily _bad_.

“Sound doesn’t carry in outer space,” he felt compelled to point out about half-way through the first movie. “That’s unrealistic.”

“It’s a series about aliens and the main character move things with his mind,” Jeremy said, “but you think the unrealistic part is things making noise in space.”

Jean raised an eyebrow at Jeremy, but Jeremy just grinned and laughed softly.

Each of Jeremy’s siblings wound up joining them before the movies were done, sprawling out around the living room waiting for the food to be done. They had to pause halfway through the third movie when the food was ready, but Jeremy promised they’d pick it up and finish it after they ate.

There was an actual table in the dining room, but it was buried in papers and other junk left there by Jeremy’s parents, so dinner was held in the living, with everyone scattered on various pieces of furniture. (Jean pointedly didn’t comment when Jeremy sat sideways on the couch and threw his legs over Jean’s lap.) Jeremy’s family were more talkative than the Trojans, but they didn’t seemed bothered by the fact that Jean was silent for most of the evening. He wondered how he got lucky enough to keep coming across people like that, people who seemed to catch onto his boundaries and respect them without even being asked to do so. Maybe it was the universe’s karmic payback for ten years spent in Riko’s custody with only Ravens and Moriyamas for company.

He also wondered about something else, later that night after everyone had gone off to bed. _Crush_ seemed like a word that should’ve left his vocabulary by now. In fact, it actually seemed like it never should’ve been there in the first place. It seemed like a word best suited to 13-year-old girls and people who hadn’t spent a decade in the care of Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama. _And yet_. He sat, turning his phone over idly in his hands, and he couldn’t deny any longer that he had a hopeless fucking crush on his best friend. (He also wondered when Jeremy had become his best friend, and made a mental note to tell him at some point, knowing it would make him happy.)

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whispered aloud to the empty room.

But it didn’t matter. He’d told Laila just a few short weeks ago that nothing would happen, and he was still convinced that was the truth. Jeremy was sunshine, and most days Jean still felt like he belonged to those deep trenches in the ocean where light would never manage to reach. Even during those rare snippets of time when Jean thought maybe Jeremy felt something too, he knew nothing could happen. He had too much baggage. Jeremy didn’t deserve to be dragged down like that, so all Jean could do was try not to dwell on his own godforsaken feelings too much.

He slumped against the wall and shook his head. For now, all he could do was climb into bed and try to force his mind to shut the hell up long enough for him to get some sleep.

 

-

 

To spite not managing to get to sleep anywhere near a decent hour, Jean was up by 7:00 the next day. Even though it was a break, he couldn’t get back to sleep. Even several months out, the Nests 16-hour a day schedule still took control of his internal clock sometimes. Luckily Jeremy’s parents seemed to wake earlier than he did. He was unsure about being around them without Jeremy, but they were such warm and welcoming people he eventually accepted the idea of eating breakfast downstairs with them.

Jeremy finally got up at a little passed 9:00, and after that he and Jean spent most of the day relaxing in his bedroom and talking. Jean was sitting in the chair by Jeremy’s desk and Jeremy was sprawled out on his bed.

“So,” Jeremy said, propping his head up in one hand. “What’s the verdict so far?”

“On what?” Jean asked.

“You know,” Jeremy gestured vaguely around the room with his free hand. “Thanksgiving. My family. Et cetera.”

“I’ve never encountered people like your family before,” Jean admitted. “I like them.”

Jeremy looked relieved. “Good, good. I’m glad.” He nodded, smiling. “You’re welcome here anytime. I know you’re spending winter break with Renee, but maybe you could come back, like, next Thanksgiving or something.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you graduate in May?”

“Well, yeah,” Jeremy said, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t come home for the holidays. I’m sure I’ll get time off from whatever team I wind up playing with.” He shrugged.

“That’s not—” That hadn’t been at all what Jean was thinking, but it took him a minute to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t see why this friendship would last passed graduation. Proximity had been what started this relationship, and he figured distance would end it. “You’re still going to hang out with me after you graduate?”

Jeremy looked so crestfallen Jean immediately regretted speaking at all. He he scooted up to the edge of the bed and sat facing Jean. “Of course. I’m not just gonna stop being your friend because we don’t go to school together. It doesn’t work like that.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Fuck, no, it doesn’t.” Jeremy shook his head. “Did you really think I was just gonna drop you like that after I left USC?” He asked.

Jean didn’t realize how much he’d actually been dreading the thought until he heard it disputed and it was like lifting a weight from his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m not.” Jeremy smiled, but it was almost a sad expression. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Jean Moreau. You’re kinda stuck with me now.” He shrugged.

Jean chewed on his lower lip, nodding. “I can live with that,” he finally said. Yeah. That would not be a problem. “I am curious about one thing, however.”

“And what’s that?”

“How did the captain of the USC Trojans wind up with a Ravens fan for a little brother?” Jean asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh my god,” Jeremy dropped his face into his hands, but he was grinning when he looked back up. “Honestly, I ask myself that every day.” Jeremy’s face changed into a more serious expression. “Er, I hope that doesn’t bother you. I mean, he has no idea how horrible they actually are.”

Jean shrugged. “As long as he doesn’t try to talk to me about Riko, it’s mostly just funny.”

“Got it. He won’t, and if he tries to you have permission to tell him to shut it.” Jeremy said.

“I don’t really think your family would like it very much if I told your twelve-year-old brother to shut up,” Jean responded. “If I’m going to come back here I don’t want to make that bad of an impression.”

“They’d still love you,” Jeremy assured him, waving off his concerns.

Jean was about to respond when a knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. Jeremy got up to answer it, and, as if on cue, James himself was standing in the doorway.

“What’s up, dude?” Jeremy asked.

James threw a look at Jean before turning back to Jeremy. He beckoned Jeremy down to his level and whispered something in his ear. Jean didn’t know what he’d said, but Jeremy raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I dunno, man. Maybe. I’ll ask,” Jeremy said.

That seemed good enough for James, because he retreated from the room and shut the door.

“What was that about?” Jean asked.

Jeremy was still grinning. “He, uh, wants to play with us. Exy, that is. He wanted me to ask you.”

“He couldn’t ask himself?”

“He’s starstruck,” Jeremy said. “It’s kind of funny, honestly. He usually never shuts up.”

“I wonder where he got that from,” Jean said, failing to hold back a smirk.

“Wow,” Jeremy shook his head, but he was still grinning, too. “Anyway. We don’t have to, but if you want to head down to the court and do some scrimmages, my little brother would probably love you forever.”

Jean agreed, mostly because he hadn’t been on a court in a week, but he couldn’t deny there was also a bit of him that just wanted Jeremy’s family to like him. Jeremy roped his sister into coming with them so they’d have even teams.

“Alright, I guess,” she said, leaning against her doorframe. “But one of you is going to be on my team because I’m not playing against two dudes who do this professionally.”

“Technically we haven’t hit the pros yet. That’s after graduation,” Jeremy reminded her.

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It’s not going to be me and my twelve-year-old brother against two of the best college athletes in the country.”

“Fair enough,” Jeremy agreed. “We’ll leave in, what, like, twenty minutes?”

“Sure, sure,” Sasha said. “Meet you guys downstairs.” She waved Jeremy out of her door and closed the door to get ready.

The court at the local YMCA was nothing like the courts Jean had been playing on the last several years of his life. It was shabby and definitely too small to be regulation size, and the borrowed armor didn’t quite fit right. And yet, to spite all that, Jean had to admit he had fun. He’d never played Exy like this; just for fun, not having to be the best, not needing to outshine everyone else. He and Jeremy had to tone it down when playing with two people so much younger and less skilled than themselves, and Jean had to remind himself to keep the harsh critiques to himself. These were children, after all, not Class I athletes.

There was something oddly freeing about playing for fun and not for competition. Playing with the Trojans had started to remind him why he picked this sport, why he used to love it, before it was forced on him and before it was literally survival. After today, he thought he might’ve reignited that old spark. Maybe one day he could love it again.

And then, of course, Jeremy was laughing and grinning the entire time and his hair was all messy after he took off his helmet, and— well. That wasn’t so bad either.

 

-

 

On Sunday, before Jean and Jeremy could leave to head back to the dorms, Alvarez stopped by Jeremy’s house for a visit. With Laila back in Michigan with her parents, Alvarez had spent the entire break with just her family for company. Jeremy said he’d met Alvarez’s family and they were lovely and perfect company themselves, but she was just missing the woman she was in love with. She left after a couple hours to pick up Laila from the airport, at which point Jeremy and Jean figured they should head back to USC as well.

Once break ended, there were only three weeks left in the fall semester, and only two Exy games left before the season ended. Registration for the spring semester opened, and Laila was at the boys’ room nearly the second it did. Since she and Jean had similar majors, she wanted to line up as many classes with him as possible, so they picked their classes and registered together.

If Jean thought the stress of midterms was something, the stress of preparing for final exams had the entire team buzzing. It worked out on the court, because they needed a way to vent those nerves, and practice was always a good way to do that. Winning the last two games in their season was a massive relief to everyone, as was the subsequent party the team threw back at the dorms, which wound up getting so big the RA’s were called in. But, off the court, half the team were complete wrecks. School had always been a secondary concern for the Ravens, but the Trojans took their academics seriously.

Jean remembered how anxious exams made Jeremy, which was why on the Sunday before academic finals actually began, he found himself doing something he never in his wildest dreams thought he’d do.

He had no idea where to begin, so he sent a text to Renee.

" _Fuck. renee, help me._ "

Realizing how that sounded, he tapped out another message as quick as he could. Or, more accurately, several messages in rapid succession.

" _wait._ "

" _I just realized last time i said that was_ "

" _that night in the nest._ "

" _Im fine but i need your help with something._ "

He drummed his fingers against the kitchen counter and waited for Renee to reply. She took a few minutes, but Jean’s phone finally beeped in his hand.

" _Haha, u had me worried there for a minute!! :-o whats up Jean?_ "

Jean sighed before answering.

" _Do you know anything about baking?_ "He sent her.

She replied quicker this time. " _Not much im afraid. stephanies a baker, but her talent never really rubbed off on me_ ," which was followed by a second message: " _Why the sudden interest?_ "

Jean frowned. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, not sure how to respond without admitting something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit.

" _i want to do something for jeremy. he likes sweets._ "

" _Ive never done this before_ "

" _i was hoping for. i dont know. a recipe or something._ "

Renee took a minute to respond again, and Jean spent that time frowning at his phone. Thankfully, she didn’t pry when her response did come.

" _U could always get a mix from the store!! super easy to prep :)_ "

Jean hadn’t even thought of that. But of course, he'd never, in his life, done something like this.

" _good idea_ ," he sent Renee, followed with: " _thank you. see you next week._ "

She responded with, " _No problem! see u soon!! xx,_ "and Jean let the conversation die.

Jeremy was out for the night. Laila and Alvarez had invited them both to a pre-finals outing with a few other Trojans, but Jean had declined and none of them had pushed him into it. He just hoped they’d be out for a while, because he barely even know where any grocery stores within walking distance were, and it would take time to make… Whatever he bought. He sighed and grabbed his keys before heading out of the dorm. It was actually chilly enough that Jean had to bring a jacket with him, which was a first for LA.

He vaguely remembered where to go to get to the nearest grocery store, but he’d never been there on foot. He’d always gone with Jeremy in his car. As he walked he worried over what he was going to do next year when Jeremy had graduated and he took his car with him. (Of course, there were plenty of other reasons he was worried about Jeremy graduating, but it didn’t do to dwell on those right now, so he pushed them from his mind.) He hoped he could rope Alvarez into giving him rides.

He had to ask an employee where to find baking mixes, and she diverted him to the right aisle, but Jean still felt lost. He knew Jeremy’s tastes well enough, but there were so many ridiculous options he didn’t know which one to get. He scowled and just grabbed a box of cookie mix. Jeremy liked chocolate chips, so he hoped that would be good enough. He made it back to the dorm and counted it as some small miracle that he’d ventured out alone and not totally freaked out about it. (He supposed several months of university, weekly counseling sessions, and unwavering support from his friends might have been helping him after all.)

All in all, the cookies were relatively easy to make. It wasn’t that hard to add some eggs and butter to the dry mix in a bowl, and he got them in the oven before long. He knew the box gave specific instructions for baking time, but Jean still sat leaning against the closed oven so he could check on them every few minutes. He wasn’t about to let them burn, goddammit. They were about half-way through the baking process when Jean heard keys in the door. Jean barely managed to scramble to his feet before the door opened.

“No,” he said, pushing Jeremy back and slamming the door behind them both.

Jeremy looked alarmed as all hell, eyes wide and keys still clutched in his outstretched hand. “Jesus Christ, Jean, what was that about? I think you gave me a heart attack.”

Jean cursed quietly in all three languages he knew. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. It’s—” He scowled. “It’s too late now I guess. It was… supposed to be a surprise.”

“I dunno, I’m pretty damn surprised.” Jeremy shook his head and threw his hands up.

“Yes, but—“ Jean sighed. He stared at the floor like it held al the answers to the universe’s most vexing questions and crossed his arms. “Ugh. Let’s just go in. If we stay out here much longer they’ll burn.”

“Burn?” Jeremy raised his eyebrows. “Okay, now I’m _really_ alarmed.”

Jean just gave his head a small jerk and opened the door, stepping inside with Jeremy on his heels.

“Okay, nothing’s on fire, that’s a good sign, but— Wait.” Jeremy sent him an odd look. “Why does it smell delicious in here?”

“It’s—“ Jean sighed. “I know how anxious you get about… Exams, and the like, so. I was going to surprise you tomorrow morning before you left for class.” He shrugged weakly. “It’s stupid, probably, but— I just thought, since you liked sweets and all, I could make you something.“

“Wait, did you—" Jeremy seemed to catch on and that point, and he peered around Jean at the oven. When he looked back at Jean he was wearing an odd, extremely soft expression on his face. “Have I ever told you you’re honestly one of my favorite people on this entire planet?”

“Um,” Jean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “No?”

“Well,” Jeremy began, “I’ll tell you now than. You really are one of my favorite people on the planet.”

“It’s just cookies,” Jean said.

“No, it’s everything,” Jeremy told him. “It’s cookies, and playing Exy with my little brother, and calming me down from an anxiety attack with greasy take out food, and... Yeah. I mean, honestly. Everything you’ve been through, and you still managed to come away from it all as a genuinely good person.”

“Honestly,” Jean mumbled. He pressed one of his hands to his face like he could physically force the heat rising in his cheeks away. “It’s just cookies.”

“I know you heard me,” Jeremy said, smiling and reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulder. “But thank you.”

The oven timer beeping distracted Jean, but he couldn’t really get Jeremy’s words and unbearably fond expression out of his head all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot of hc's about jeremy's family.
> 
> also jeremy is the type of kid to text/call his mom almost every day fight me


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh this is like. half-way just a filler chapter b/c i kind of had a hard time writing it, so its p short and lacking in much actual content. idk. i tried my best. :x
> 
> i had to include some renison bc i am such a hoe for that ship i Cry

Finals came and went, and before Jean knew it the team was on the road headed to San Diego for the winter banquet, a short drive compared to some of the other rides he’d been on in his collegiate career. It was strange to think his first semester at USC was over. It felt like it had passed in a flash, yet these past few months had also been some of the longest and most arduous of his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt hopeful; Riko had been pretty successful in beating hope out of him years ago. But he thought maybe he felt a flutter of it in his chest. He had friends and a team who, for some reason, cared about him, and even though dark rooms still gave him panic attacks half the time and he still had to remind himself not to get too violent on the court so as not to ruin his new team's reputation, he was making progress. Jean thought Riko had ruined him for good, but he could feel his hold on him loosening every day.

The pacific district’s season rankings for spring championships were announced at the banquet. To no one’s surprise, USC claimed the number one spot in the district, again, with a near perfect season. Berkeley managed to claim second, with Oregon State coming in third, and UW clinching fourth place. The banquet was uneventful and relatively relaxed, and the Trojans headed back to LA Saturday night. Laila and Alvarez would be spending the first week of the holidays in LA with Alvarez’s family, but would both be flying to Michigan later on to spend New Year’s with Laila’s. Jean had a flight to North Dakota on Sunday, where he’d be spending the break with Renee and her adoptive mother. (And, apparently, Allison Reynolds, as he’d found out about a week before his departure.)

When Jeremy pulled up outside LAX on Sunday, Jean found himself feeling an odd sort of ache. He knew he’d only be gone for a couple weeks, but it was still hard to leave the first place he’d felt really comfortable in his life. At some point he’d started to associate USC and the people he’d come to know there with the feeling of _home_ , which was as debilitating as it was freeing. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten so invested, because if there was one thing that had always proven true, it was that nothing good ever lasted, but so far nothing had happened to take this away from him.

Jeremy’s voice brought his attention back to reality. “I can wait with you until your plane comes, if you want,” he said.

Jean turned to him and shook his head. “No. It’s alright.”

“You sure?” Jeremy asked. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Jeremy, it’s fine. You wouldn’t even be able to make it past security,” Jean reminded him.

“Alright, alright, fair enough.” Jeremy nodded to concede the point. “Well, text me when you land, yeah?”

“Yes, alright,” Jean said.

“Have a good time with Renee,” Jeremy said with a smile.

Jean nodded. “Have a good time with your family.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy nodded. “I will.”

Jean opened to door to get out, grabbing his backpack from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. He was almost reluctant to leave, but he figured it was best not to draw this out.

“Bye, Jean,” Jeremy called before he shut the door. “See you in a couple weeks!”

“Goodbye,” Jean returned, waving a little awkwardly before he shut the door. He watched Jeremy’s little yellow car disappear into the traffic outside the airport before he jostled his way inside. The crowd inside was nearly double what it had been in May when he’d originally arrived in LA. Christmas was still over a week away, but winter travelers trying to beat the holiday rush still congested the place until just finding his security checkpoint was a hassle, and getting through the line itself was its own sort of nightmare. He’d arrived an hour early for his flight, but by the time he made it through the line and to his gate the plane was almost ready to board.

He sent a quick message to Renee when he found his seat on the plane before turning his phone off, letting her know he was about to take off. He couldn’t help but feel jittery preparing for another cross-country plane ride, but he’d made enough progress he was able to sooth himself with some of the grounding techniques he’d been learning in his weekly counseling sessions with Jess.

The flight from California to North Dakota didn't feel very long, and before he knew it the plane was touching down on the runway. When he filed off the plane and turned his phone back on he had four messages blinking at him in his inbox. There was one from Jeremy, Laila, and Alvarez, but the first was from Renee, which seemed the most pressing, so he opened it first. She’d told him to wait for her outside the airport and that she’d be coming by in her mother’s car to pick him up. He didn’t know what Renee’s car looked like, but he figured he’d spot her distinctive hair.

It was a shock when he stepped out of the airport and there was snow on the ground. Jean blinked and faltered in his path for a split second. After spending several months in Southern California, he’d almost forgotten that it was actually _winter_ outside of LA’s unseasonable warmth. Jean had almost forgotten what it was like to be really _cold_. He regretted not putting on a thicker coat before leaving LA, and stopped to pull one out of his bag while he was waiting for Renee. He was just shrugging the jacket over his shoulders when a horn honked and caught his attention. He looked up, and sure enough, the car pulling up to the curb was driven by a girl with distinctive white hair and pastel tips. He started for the car, and Renee waved and smiled at him through the window.

He started for the passenger door and slid into the seat beside Renee. She smiled sweetly at him, and Jean found himself returning it.

“Hi,” he said, a little awkwardly.

“Hello,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Jean said sincerely. “It’s, um, nice to see you under better circumstances than the last time.”

Renee laughed softly. “Definitely,” she agreed, nodding as she pulled out into traffic to drive away from the airport. “I much prefer this to our last meeting.”

“Me too,” Jean said, frowning. “So, how are the Foxes?”

Renee shrugged. “Everyone’s doing fine. We finished second in our district, but there’s still quite a bit of tension with some of the freshmen. Neil is convinced we would have come in first if they would cooperate more. But, compared to last year things have really calmed down.”

Jean snorted. “So, what, no gangsters kidnapping your players this year?”

Renee sent him a quick look which was gently reprimanding. “No, none of that, thankfully.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jean admitted. It honestly was; it meant the Moriyamas and all their affiliates had left them alone, which was a massive relief.

“And what about you? How are things going with the Trojans?” Renee asked.

Jean smiled and looked out the window. “They’re good,” he said softly, thinking about his friends and his teams incredible season. “Very good. I’m glad Kevin thought of sending me there.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” Renee said.

Jean nodded, slanting a look at Renee. “How are things with Allison?”

Jean didn’t think he was imaging the way Renee went slightly pink. It was an interesting thing to witness. Renee was typically so calm and put together. “Things are going very well, thank you,” she answered.

“Is she, like, your girlfriend now?”

“I think so,” Renee nodded slightly. “We haven’t told the team yet, but we’re almost there, I think. And that’s really the last step to making it official.”

“Well, congratulations,” Jean said sincerely.

Renee hummed in affirmation.

Jean used the lull in conversation to check the other messages he’d gotten during his flight. Jeremy and Alvarez had just sent him generic "have a good flight" messages, and Laila's message said " _have fun + try not to freeze to death in n.dakota dude._ " Jean responded to that by clicking a picture of the snow on the ground outside the car when Renee stopped at a red light and sending it to her. After a second's hesitation he sent the picture to Jeremy as well.

After a moment of silence, Renee said, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How are things with Jeremy?” She asked.

Jean narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he liked the jump from discussing Renee’s _girlfriend_ to Jeremy. “What are you implying, Walker?”

“Oh, nothing,” Renee said calmly. “I’ve been speaking with Laila Dermott, and she seems to think—“

Jean groaned. Laila had asked for Renee’s number in class after she’d spoken with her on Jean’s phone at the start of season party. “I knew I would regret giving her your phone number.”

“I’m sorry,” Renee said, although she didn’t sound it. “She was very adamant that I speak to you about this.”

Jean thought back to his talk with Laila during midterms. She’d promised their conversation wasn’t over, but he hadn’t heard anything else about it since. He’d thought she’d forgotten. He frowned. “She already had this talk with me,” he grumbled.

“Yes, she mentioned that.” Renee’s smile faded slightly. “I don’t know how it went, but she was rather heated about it. She made me promise to ‘talk some sense into you.’ I won’t force you to talk about it, but,” she flicked him a quick look before turning her eyes back on the road, “I’m here if you want to. Is everything alright between you two?”

Jean sighed. He could’ve- probably should’ve- just let it drop. He had absolutely zero experience talking about emotional nonsense, and there was still a part of his mind that sent up alarm bells at exposing such an exploitable weakness. But this was Renee, the woman who’d saved his life. And the fact that she was offering him a _choice_ didn’t hurt, either. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s stupid, and it’s not like anything will happen, but—“ he gave his head a small but emphatic jerk and ran his hands through his hair.

“But you have feelings for him?” Renee guessed.

Jean’s silence was probably answer enough. To admit it aloud made his stomach twist, but eventually he nodded. “Something like that,” he said. His voice came out quieter than he’d intended it to and sounded like it came from a long way off.

“So, what’s the problem exactly?” She asked, her voice honey-sweet.

Jean huffed, too dry to be a real laugh. “Please, Renee. The problem is that nothing can ever happen. He’s— He’s Jeremy Knox, and I’m… An emotionally _fucked_ former Raven. He deserves better than that.”

Renee pursed her lips. “I think you’re too hard on yourself, Jean. Bad things have happened to you, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. I think you’re a very good person, actually,” she said. “And Laila seems convinced he’s interested in you, too.”

“Laila doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Jean insisted, letting Renee’s other comments go without a response.

“Well, you could always try talking to him,” Renee said after a brief pause. “You can’t be sure until you do.”

Jean let out an incredulous sound from his throat. “And fuck up our entire friendship? No thank you. I want him in my life too badly to ruin things like that.”

Renee reached over and gently rubbed his shoulder in a brief but reassuring gesture. “It didn’t mess up the friendship between Allison and I when we talked about our feelings.”

Jean closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

“Just think about it, okay?” Renee said when he didn’t have any response to offer her. Jean didn’t have anything to say to that, either, and Renee let it drop and they made the rest of the drive in silence.

Renee’s house was in the suburbs of a tiny town about twenty minutes from the airport. Renee parked at the curb and killed the engine, and the two of them headed inside. Jean wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting Renee Walker’s house to look like, but the interior was surprisingly modern and the furniture looked expensive. It made more sense to Jean when he remembered Stephanie Walker was a fairly successful sports reporter. Jean didn’t see Renee’s foster mother anywhere, but he did spot Allison Reynolds sitting at an island in the kitchen with a cup of what was either coffee or tea in her hands. Jean didn’t know how he felt about spending an extended amount of time with Allison, but he supposed if he had to spend his break with any of the Foxes, this option was better than Kevin or Neil or one of the Minyards. And if she made Renee happy she couldn’t be so bad.

Renee took a seat beside Allison and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, so Jean averted his eyes and sat opposite them at the kitchen island. Allison hooked an arm around Renee and pulled her closer. Jean didn’t really know what to do with himself while this was going on, and silently hoped they wouldn’t be acting all couple-y the entire time he was here. It also did not help in the fucking slightest that all this lovey garbage made him think of Jeremy. No. Definitely not a useful train of thought. Luckily Renee and Allison pulled away from each other after a few more seconds. Allison turned towards Jean and sent him a considering look.

Jean raised his eyebrow. “What?”

Allison snorted. “Hello to you too,” she said.

Renee squeezed Allison’s wrist softly but with clear intent behind it. “I’m not sure if you two have met properly yet,” she said, waving her hand between the two of them. “Allison, Jean. Jean, Allison.”

“Yeah, I think the last time I saw you you were saying something nasty to Kevin at the banquet.” Allison said, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the counter top.

Jean made a face at the memory, but his phone buzzed in his pocket and distracted him before he could respond. Jeremy had responded, first with a message that contained nothing but a cluster of exclamation marks, and then with a second text a few seconds later that said, " _Stay warm! i shouldve pawned more sweaters off on u before you left!_ "

The irony of the only person who could ever get cold while living in Los Angeles telling him to stay warm was enough to make Jean grin, and he had to stop himself from actually laughing. He typed up a response and assured Jeremy he’d be fine, before setting his phone down on the counter in front of him and looked back up at the girls.

“Wow, I thought Ravens were all emotionless Exy robots,” Allison said casually.

Jean hadn’t really realized he was still smiling, but he frowned at Allison. “I’m not a Raven anymore,” he said, and got an approving smile from Renee.

“Neither is Kevin, but he’s still an asshole at least ninety percent of the time,” Allison responded with a flick of her fingers.

“I’m impressed,” Jean said. “He was an asshole one-hundred percent of the time in the Nest.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you guys think?” Renee asked.

“Not really,” Allison responded. “He yelled at me for like ten minutes last practice.”

Jean did laugh at that. “I’d sympathize with you, but I’ve seen your team play and I’m sure you deserved it.”

“Are you forgetting we’re national champions?” Allison said, to which Jean actually didn’t have a response.

The conversation stopped when a woman Jean assumed was Stephanie Walker entered the room. Stephanie was a confident-looking woman who shared Renee’s calm, sugary smile. She had a lot to say to all three of them, but Jean especially since this was their first meeting. Jean could see why she would make a good reporter; she was chatty and a bit nosy, but she also seemed nice enough. Maybe Renee had warned her against asking about the Ravens, because mentions of Jean’s former team were blissfully absent from the conversation. Stephanie offered to make them dinner, so Allison, Renee, and Jean retreated to the living room while she cooked.

Renee’s couch was shaped like a big leather L. Jean was sitting on the shorter portion while Renee and Allison stretched out across the lengthier bit, Allison’s socked feet in Renee’s lap and Renee’s hand perched on Allison’s calf. It wasn’t as awkward as Jean had anticipated it to be. To spite his friendship with Renee going back almost a year now, this was the first time they’d spent any extended period of time together, and with Allison there as well Jean had almost expected this trip to be a nightmare. But it was alright. Allison was blunt and borderline rude, but so was Jean, so that didn’t bother him.

Jean found himself exhausted from the cross-country flight, so he wound up going to bed early that night The room was darker than he would’ve liked, and he had to fight a swell of panic that threatened to rise up. But, he opened up the curtains and the glow from the strings of Christmas lights hung up on the house was a nice source of illumination. It also didn’t hurt that Jeremy texted him right before he was about to drift off to say goodnight.

 

-

 

Jean knew Renee and Stephanie were religious, so he was unsurprised to find that they really got into Christmas. The day after Jean’s arrival Stephanie had come home with a tree, and had enlisted all three of the kids help in decorating it. Jean had no clue what he was doing and left as much of the work as possible to the others. Jean’s favorite part was the string of soft white lights he helped Renee string around the tree. They reminded him of the lights Jeremy had hung in the dorm back in the summer, which still helped Jean sleep better at night.

Jean spent most of his time with Renee and Allison at the house, but Renee had a few places in her hometown she wanted to show her friends. It snowed again a few days after Jean’s arrival and added a couple inches to the piles that were left over from the last storm, but Renee had studs in her tires so they didn’t have a problem getting around. Jean had new texts from Jeremy everyday, and from Laila and Alvarez almost as frequently which left a warm feeling in his chest that he decided he quite liked.

A couple days before Christmas Jeremy texted Jean, asking him what his favorite color was. Jean’s initial response was just " _Not black_ ," but after he sent it he really started to think. It wasn’t something that had ever mattered before, and he’d never even had the inclination to think about it. But he did now, and his mind supplied him with images of the vast California sky. “ _I think i like blue_ ,” he sent a second later. “ _light blue. like the sky_ ,” he added, in yet another text. Jeremy sent back a very enthusiastic-looking emoticon, which somehow managed to make Jean smile.

On Christmas Eve Allison finally managed to get Jean to confess who he’d been texting so religiously since his arrival. Her response almost made Jean regret coming to North Dakota in the first place.

“Is it just like, a thing for all former Ravens to be in love with Jeremy Knox?” She asked, one perfectly-shaped eyebrow raised.

“Shut up,” Jean said, sending his deadliest glare at Allison.

“You’re worse than Kevin. All he has to do is text you and you blush like a fucking middle schooler.”

“I do not,” Jean said, but even he knew how pathetic he sounded.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude,” Allison said. Jean was infinitely grateful when Renee pulled Allison’s attention to a different topic. She started going on about spending New Year’s with the Foxes, which gave Jean time to collect his thoughts. It did not make matters any better that Jeremy chose that exact moment to send a text that should’ve been ridiculous but was instead just stupidly cute. He attached a picture of that giant dog of his, its head resting on Jeremy’s legs, the caption reading “ _Pickle says hi!_ ”

On Christmas day Renee helped Stephanie make a massive amount of food for dinner, but she seemed fine with letting Allison and Jean just hang out and stay out of the way. The evening was calm and enjoyable, even though Allison stared at him every time his phone went off.

Two days after Christmas, Jean heard the name ‘Ichirou’ come out of Allison’s mouth and almost dropped the mug of coffee he’d been holding on the ground. Jean was eternally grateful that at least Stephanie wasn’t home, but it was still alarming that Allison Reynolds would even know about the elder Moriyama brother. Up until that point he’d assumed only Renee and Andrew Minyard were the only other Foxes knew the truth about the Moriyamas and Neil’s deal. Upon further prodding, Jean made a discovery that made his stomach turn. Apparently not only did _all_ of the Foxes know the truth about the Moriyamas, they also knew about Neil’s deal with the new lord. Up until that point Jean had been under the impression Kevin was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He would've blamed it all on Neil and his inability to close his mouth for even a second, but Renee informed him that the Foxes had known since they first agreed to sign Kevin to the line, almost _two years_ ago. Jean spent the rest of that day fighting off waves of nausea and panic, and he almost called Kevin to demand an explanation.

For a moment he hated Kevin. His team had known the truth from the very beginning and they still defended him to the ends of the earth. Would the Trojans still accept Jean so easily if they knew the truth? He didn’t harbor any illusions about being able to tell the whole team, and frankly he didn’t care to, but he wondered if Jeremy and the girls would still want anything to do with him if he told them the reality of his situation. He finally decided that train of thought was not one he wanted to explore and firmly pushed the Moriyamas and their bloody business from his mind.

Renee and Allison had made plans to spend New Year's with the rest of the Foxes, so on December 30th Stephanie drove the two of them and Jean to the airport and dropped them off. The girls had a later flight than Jean, so they waited with him at his gate until boarding started before heading off to their own flight.

Jean shuffled onto the plane and fund his seat, cramming his bag below the seat in front of him and leaning back to stare out the window. Even though most of the town was still covered in snow, the runways had been cleared so take off was uninhibited and smooth. Jean hadn’t realized how tired he was, but he actually managed to fall asleep almost immediately when the plane hit cruising altitude. He’d never really been able to sleep on planes before. He was usually seated beside a Raven, and Jean would never willingly give them any opportunity to see him vulnerable. And after leaving the Ravens, the mere fact that he was flying alone was enough to keep him up with the _wrongness_ of the whole thing. But today was what Jess would call a ‘bad day’; he’d woken up mentally exhausted and had barely had the energy to speak, even to Renee, so eventually his own fatigue won out and he dozed as he flew across the country.

He was glad he didn’t talk or thrash about in his sleep, because none of his dreams were pleasant. Riko was heavily featured, and when he finally opened his eyes it was night and completely black out the window. Half-awake, he jerked away from the window and almost collided with the passenger on his right. It was almost 9:00 PM when the plane finally touched down at LAX, and Jean couldn’t get off fast enough. Jean didn’t think it was physically possible for the airport to be any busier than it had been on his departure, but this close to New Year's LAX was essentially wall-to-wall of nothing but bodies, and every single one of them seemed to be in the biggest rush of their lives. Jean didn’t know how anyone managed to run when there were people standing barely inches apart, but the mass of anxious flyers managed it anyway. Finding a taxi took almost half an hour. Although the crowding eased up when Jean stepped outside of the airport, there were still enough people to make it an absolute nightmare. Jean was fighting off a stress-induced headache by the time he finally found a ride and got underway to USC.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. can i just say. i have. no fucking idea how any of u ever manage to write smut/nsfw. bc lemme fucking tell u i had a hard enough time just writing a /kiss./ like. no joke i was. literally Blushing. and like. hiding my face in my hands. like. it turns out im twelve years old i guess!
> 
> also theres some mentions of self harm later in the chapter, and the chapter starts off w an anxiety attack
> 
> also also: this is the last completed chapter i have. up until now ive just been posting what i already have written, which is why ive been updating so much. but from now on updates will be slower because i dont have anything passed this point written. (well. i have about half of the next chapter, but that's it.) this also isnt the only fic im working on, so idk how long it'll take me to finish up the next chapter.

Seeing the dorms appear in his line of sight was so much of a relief it made him dizzy. Although most students were presumably off on their own adventures for break, there were still a few cars scattered out in the parking lot. Even though he knew Jeremy was in Pasadena with his family, he still felt a little twinge of dejection when his bright yellow car wasn’t one of the ones in the lot. He paid the cab driver as fast as he could and walked briskly up to the building. His keys were buried somewhere in his bag, and it took a full minute of rummaging around to find them. He buzzed himself in and took the elevator up to the sixth floor, not in the mood to take the stairs up that far.

He didn’t like how dark the building was. It was a rare overcast day in LA, so even with the many windows, the hallways were deeply shadowed. Most of the lights had been shut off to save power during break, so it was dim enough that Jean’s hands were shaking faintly by the time he opened the door to his and Jeremy’s room. He fumbled for the light switch, but even with the light on he still felt like he couldn’t quite breathe right.

He dumped his bag in the bedroom and sat down on his bed to try and get himself under control. It was easier said than done. Over the past few months, Jean had started to get used to the whole ‘being alone’ thing. He could go to class without his teammates without thinking much of it, he could stay behind at the dorm while Jeremy was out without even batting an eye. But there was something about tonight that made all those months of progress feel like nothing. It wasn’t much, just a dull sort of ache in his lungs and the nagging sensation that something was wrong. He had to remind himself repeatedly that this wasn’t Evermore, this was USC, he was safe, he was fine, he was free and Riko was dead, about a thousand times before he even started to believe it.

It should’ve been fine. He should’ve been fine. There was no reason to feel like this, but Jean still couldn’t quite get the tremors in his hands to go away. He would’ve just gone to sleep and put an end to this entire day, but he’d slept several hours on the plane and now, of course, he was wide awake.

Really, the nail in the goddamn coffin was the empty refrigerator. Admittedly it wasn’t just that which had Jean reeling, but the prospect of going to refill it, alone, like this. He crossed the room and sat in the armchair in the corner by the window, knowing that if he didn’t do something to bring himself back from whatever tentative edge he’d made for himself, he’d cross over it and then... Well. Nothing good could come after that.

His phone beeping at him from his jacket pocket startled him enough he almost jumped out of the chair. He didn’t even really register what the text said, but seeing Jeremy’s name flashing on his screen brought a little clarity back to him. He didn’t bother to respond to the text, and instead he dialed out and pressed his phone to his ear. He held his free hand out in front of his face while his phone dialed out, trying to steady it. But really, all that did was make him focus on his slightly crooked fingers, which made him think of Riko breaking them, which—

Before he could chase that thought any further, Jeremy picked up and brought his head back to here and now. “Hey,” he said brightly.

Jean tried to hate the little spike of heat which rose in his chest and couldn’t quite managed it. He clenched his hand into a fist and dropped it to his lap. “Hi,” he responded. He didn’t quite expect it to sound so raw, but when he was on the brink of a panic attack he didn’t really think of trying to school it into something more neutral.

There was a brief pause, but then Jeremy said, “Is everything alright?”

It really wasn’t, but Jean couldn’t get himself to say so. “Sorry,” Jean said. “It’s silly. I just—“ He shook his head. “It’s been a bad day, I guess,” he admitted.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, his voice soft, “it’s not silly. What’s up?”

Jean shrugged, even though he knew Jeremy couldn’t see it. “I don’t know, it’s… It’s still hard being alone sometimes. I guess I—“ He stopped himself from saying _I just wanted to hear your voice_ , because even he knew how that would come across. “I just wanted to talk to someone,” he concluded with instead.

The line was silent for a minute, and Jean had to check to make sure Jeremy hadn’t hung up on him. He figured Jeremy wouldn’t do that, but there was still a little lurch of fear that whispered to him to shut up and stop showing off all the cracks in his armor. Finally, though, Jeremy responded. “You’re back at the dorms now, right?”

Jean hummed in confirmation.

“Do you want me to come pick you up?” He asked. “You could come spend the rest of the break with me at my place.”

“Really?” Jean raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed. “I mean, it sounds crazy lonely just hanging out by yourself in the dorms. And you can’t spend New Years all alone, dude.”

“Are you sure? It’s late,” Jean said.

Jeremy made a vague sort of humming noise. “Oh well. It’s winter break, my sleep schedule’s already shot to hell. I’m gonna come get you now, yeah?”

Jean wanted to protest more, but when given the choice between spending a week holed up in the dorm by himself or spending the week with Jeremy and his family, the choice was obvious. “Okay,” he said, “thank you, that sounds good.”

“Hey, no problem,” Jeremy assured him. Jean could swear he could hear the smile in his voice. “See you soon, alright?”

“Okay,” Jean said. “See you soon.” He hung up and checked the time on his phone’s screen. It was almost 11:00 at night. Jean felt a little twinge of guilt, but everything else he was feeling mostly managed to extinguish that. He hadn’t bothered to unpack yet, so he grabbed his bag out of the bedroom and went to wait in the living room. He sat back and stared up at the ceiling. He took a little solace in the bright white paint and the yellow tint of the light. It was a little easier to breathe, especially knowing Jeremy was on his way. He tried not to let his thoughts wander, but it was hard when he had nothing else to occupy his time.

A year ago today he’d been in the Nest with Neil Josten of all people at his side, the two of them the closest thing either of them had to allies in Riko’s fucked up world. Back then, he hadn’t really felt bad about sitting by while Riko tore Neil down every night. It was all about getting through the day, just surviving a little longer even if he constantly wondered if that was even worth it. But almost eight months in California colored those memories with an unpleasant spike of guilt. He had to remind himself that really, there wasn’t a damn thing he could’ve done, but it was still a distinctly unpleasant thing to know Riko had forced him to be an accomplice in his abuse. He’d had to subject someone else to the hell he’d been dealing with the past several years. He hated knowing he had once had the capacity to do even a fraction of what Riko had done. Jeremy and Renee had both told him he was a good person, but how could he possibly believe them with all of that weighing on his conscience?

Relief was almost a physical thing when Jean’s phone finally beeped with a text saying Jeremy was down in the parking lot. He snagged his keys off the coffee table and his bag from the couch and was out the door in record time, as if maybe he could outrun his dire thoughts.

Jeremy was leaning against the hood of his car wearing pajama pants and an overly large sweater. He looked up when he heard the front door swinging open. His smile lit up his face when he spotted Jean, a welcoming and bright expression. Jean didn’t have the energy to return to favor, but it was nice to see all the same. Jeremy hopped off the car and came to meet Jean. “Hey,” he said.

Jean nodded in acknowledgement. “Hi,” he returned weakly.

Jeremy looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he just pointed over his shoulder at the car. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Jean nodded again, this time in agreement. “Let’s.”

Jeremy turned and headed back towards the car, Jean not far behind. Jean didn’t have much to say, and Jeremy didn’t push for conversation on the ride to Pasadena. Jeremy’s house looked mostly dark when they got back- it was pretty late by now, and Jean assumed most of the Knoxes were asleep at this point. Jeremy got the door unlocked quietly as possible, but any attempts at stealth went in vain when the second the door opened Jeremy’s gigantic fucking dog was bouncing in circles and trying to bawl both of them over. Jean didn’t know how an animal could make so much noise without even opening its mouth, but he supposed it had to do with the things size.

“Pickle, _no_ , oh my god” Jeremy hissed, grabbing him by his collar and trying to calm him down. Jean stayed by the entryway while Jeremy got him under control, not in the mood to be tackled by a massive, hairy beast.

“Pickle is still a ridiculous name for a dog,” Jean muttered when Jeremy finally managed to get the thing calmed down.

“I dunno,” Jeremy said, “I think it fits.” He shrugged, and turned back to Jean.

Jean thought of arguing the point, but instead he just sighed and said. “Thanks. You didn’t have to come get me in the middle of the night like that.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Jeremy replied. “I wanted to.” He turned, but he made for the kitchen instead of the living room. Jean hesitated, but Jeremy turned in the doorway and beckoned for him to follow. It was already late, but Jean still didn’t feel any signs of fatigue, so he might as well spend his evening with Jeremy. He dropped his bag in the living room doorway before heading to the kitchen.

Jeremy was filling a pan with water and setting it to boil on the stove when Jean joined him. Jean didn’t know what it was for, but it didn’t matter that much to him. Jeremy hopped up on the counter to wait and turned to face Jean. Jean made a split-second decision in his mind and walked over to join him, situating himself on the counter beside Jeremy.

“Aren’t you going to wake up your family?” Jean asked.

Jeremy shrugged. “They’re heavy sleepers. Besides, they wake me up all the time.”

Jean was thankful for the distraction of easy chitchat with Jeremy. If he had to dwell anymore on the darkness he’d felt earlier he’d spiral downwards quickly. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but he could swear Jeremy was inching his hand closer to Jean’s on the counter. “I hope they still like me enough to let me hang around if we wake them all up in the middle of the night,” Jean said.

“Don’t be silly,” Jeremy said. “They love you. They’d just be happy to see you.”

“If you say so,” Jean said incredulously.

“I do say so,” Jeremy said, bumping his shoulder against Jean’s. “It’s true.”

Jean didn’t know what to say, so he mimicked Jeremy’s gesture and bumped his shoulder into his side as soon as he’d retreated out of Jean’s space. Jeremy raised his eyebrows and grinned at Jean. In the low light of the kitchen he looked unfairly gorgeous, with an almost mischievous look on his face. Of course, Jean pretty much thought Jeremy always looked unfairly gorgeous, but there was something that made it so he didn’t want to look away right now. He thought it was encouraging that Jeremy didn’t look away either.

Maybe Laila was right. Maybe this thing was reciprocated after all, maybe—

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, the water Jeremy had put on started boiling and Jeremy turned away. Jean pursed his lips and tried not to be disappointed. He hopped down from the counter and went out into the hallway, heading down into the living room. He sat down heavily on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.

Jeremy appeared after a minute, holding two mugs in his hands and sitting on the cushion beside Jean. “Here,” he said, handing over one of the mugs.

“It’s a bit late for coffee,” Jean said, looking down into his mug skeptically.

“It’s not coffee,” Jeremy assured him, “it’s hot chocolate. Don’t worry,” he added. “It’s dark chocolate, so even you’ll like it.”

Jean took a tentative sip, and burned his tongue. He set the cup down on the end table beside the couch and cursed quietly in French. “That’s fucking hot,” he said.

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, “should’ve warned you.” He wasn’t sipping his hot chocolate either, and he put it down on the other end table on his side of the couch to let it cool off. “So, how was break? Did you have a good time with Renee?”

Jean thought about that for a moment. “Yes, it was… nice. It was good to see Renee again without severe injuries and trauma bringing us together.” He shrugged. “Allison Reynolds was there. That part was interesting.” A thought popped into his head, but he had to debate whether or not he should actually voice it. “She thinks Kevin has a crush on you,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Jeremy blinked, and then he burst out laughing. “Does she now?”

“She’s full of it,” Jean said with a shrug. “Kevin has a girlfriend, anyway.”

“Okay, good,” Jeremy said. “I mean, I’d be flattered, but…”

“But?”

Jeremy shrugged. “But I’m interested in someone already, so. He’d be out of luck.”

Jean shouldn’t push it. He should shut the hell up and just let it drop, he should definitely not— “And who might that be?” He asked, aiming for casual and failing spectacularly.

Jeremy looked at him for a beat before answering, his grin fading from his face, replaced by a more serious but softer expression. “Isn’t it obvious? I thought it was pretty obvious.”

In the morning, Jean would be able to blame what he did next on the late hour of the night. He’d also been thrown so thoroughly through an emotional whirlwind already that day that he just didn’t really have the capacity to be scared about anything else. Either way, Jeremy was leaning in way too close, his expression way too open and soft for Jean to find any reason solid enough to stop himself from closing the gap between them entirely and pressing his lips against Jeremy’s.

It took him a second to really realize what he was doing. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but when his mind caught up with the fact that he had actually just _kissed Jeremy fucking Knox_ , he jerked away, eyes wide, pressing his fingers to his own lips like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “I—“ He shook his head, stumbling a desperate search for words. “Shit,” he finally managed, “I— that—“

Jeremy was looking back at him with his lips slightly parted and his cheeks bright red. Before Jean could even manage to stumble through an entire sentence, Jeremy reached out and cupped his hand around Jean’s cheek, pulling him back in so their lips met again.

_Oh._

_Okay, okay._

_Okay._

Thinking back on it, Jean had never actually kissed anyone before. Romance was forbidden in the Ravens, after all, and after everything Riko had put him through, he’d been fairly certain he’d never even _want_ to be with anyone. But Jeremy… Jeremy was something else. He was something bright in a world which had been predominantly darkness for Jean, and he was incredible in every sense of the word. Jean wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s back, pulling him closer and leaning into the kiss with everything he had. Jeremy was cupping his face with both hands, his palms warm and unfairly soft. His lips were equally as soft, and Jean lost himself in the kiss. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, it could’ve been half a second or it could’ve been half a year and Jean didn’t think he would’ve been able to tell the difference. But when Jeremy pulled away, Jean had to catch his breath and it took him a moment before he could open his eyes again.

“Wait,” Jeremy whispered, rubbing his thumbs softly over Jean’s cheeks. He didn’t lean back too far, which Jean was thankful for. He didn’t think he could stand to be more than a couple inches from Jeremy right now. “Are you sure about this?”

Jean answered that by leaning back in for another kiss. Jeremy let it go on for a couple minutes before he leaned back again. “No, wait, I’m serious,” he said, meeting Jean’s eyes when Jean finally opened his. “Is this really okay?”

Jean took a minute to find his voice. How was he supposed to form coherent sentences when he could barely even form coherent thoughts? “Jeremy, _I_ kissed _you_ ,” he reminded him.

Jeremy nodded. “I know, I know, but, I mean— I’m your captain, and I know who your last captain was, and, I don’t— I don’t want you to feel like— like you have to do this, or something. Do you really want to do this?”

Jean took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and leaning his forehead against Jeremy’s. “Jeremy Knox, I can’t think of a single person on this planet _less_ like Riko than you,” he said, and realized he was smiling softly. “And there are very few things in this world that I have ever wanted more than this.”

“Oh,” Jeremy breathed, followed by a small, shaky laugh.

“Unless—“ Jean pulled back so he could meet Jeremy’s eyes again. “Unless you don’t want to, or—“

“What? No,” Jeremy didn’t even let him get the rest of his sentence out. “Jean, of course I do. I mean, I’m kind of crazy about you. I thought… I thought I was being so obvious about it,” he said sheepishly.

“To be fair, you probably were. Laila says everyone on the team already thinks we’re an item or something. I probably just didn’t pick up on it,” Jean admitted. “I mean, I thought— I thought I was the obvious one.”

“I guess we’re just too oblivious for our own good,” Jeremy said with another shaky laugh, before he said, “Wait. Did you say the whole team already thinks—?”

For once, Jean could actually find the humor in the situation. He’d been mortified when Laila had first told him, but now he couldn’t fight a grin from breaking out on his face. “According to Laila, yes.”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy said with a distressed little groan, dropping his face into his hands and leaning forward. Jean just used that as an opportunity to pull him even closer, and in turn Jeremy used that as an opportunity to wrap his arms around Jean’s neck. Jean had never, in his life, experienced something as… soft as this. He pressed a kiss to the top of Jeremy’s head to get his attention again, and when he finally looked back up at Jean, Jean leaned in until their lips met.

Conversation pretty much stopped after that. It was already stupidly late, but Jean didn’t mind wasting another couple hours like this with Jeremy. It had to be nearly dawn by the time exhaustion finally won out. He had to break apart from Jeremy to yawn into his hand, and that effectively put an end to the kissing. At this point they were sprawled out on the couch, legs intertwined together and pressed as close together as they could be. In the back of Jean’s mind he knew it was a bad idea to pass out in the middle of Jeremy’s living room like this, but he was tired and happier than he’d been in a long time, and he didn’t want to move. He was afraid if he left Jeremy now he’d wake up tomorrow to find this whole evening had been a dream, and he didn’t think he’d be able to handle that.

Jean was too tired to think of anything to say, so he settled for looking at Jeremy and enjoying the way Jeremy was looking back at him. Before they could drift off to sleep, Jeremy leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to Jean’s cheek, very near to where his tattoo was. It was enough to send a shiver down Jean’s spine, and he rested his forehead against Jeremy’s. All in all, he thought this wasn’t a bad way to spend his night.

 

-

 

The next morning Jean awoke with with a mess of unidentifiable emotions spinning around his head. It took him a minute to remember what he’d done last night, why he was feeling the way he was, and why he was practically wrapped around another person. Clarity came back to him quick enough, and with it came a whirlwind of emotion strong enough to make his breath catch in his throat. _Okay_ , he thought to himself, _this is okay. You spent half the night making out with your best friend. No big deal._

He knew it actually _was_ a big deal, but if he let himself think that he might genuinely start to freak out.

He thought about getting up, but when he opened his eyes and saw Jeremy still asleep beside him he froze. Jean didn’t like to admit it, but he’d snuck his fair share of looks at Jeremy when he slept in the bed across the room from his. But this was something else. He looked peaceful and content and still unfairly gorgeous in a way which made Jean’s heart lurch. He took a deep breath and settled back down in the couch, not wanting to disturb Jeremy.

Jean was staring, and he knew it, but he supposed it didn’t matter now. He was caught in some shaky middle ground between absolute panic and a type of warmth and fondness that was so new and unfamiliar Jean could hardly place the feeling at first. There was a part of him that was sure this, whatever it was between them now, could never last. This was such a new thing to Jean and he was still such a wreck he was positive he’d find a way to ruin it. But he wanted to hold on, he just had no idea how. He had to remind himself that Jeremy wanted this too, and had said as much last night.

Maybe Jean had moved too much, or maybe he’d just been thinking about Jeremy so much that he could sense it, but Jeremy opened his eyes a moment later. He smiled, a bleary and soft expression that had Jean forgetting how to breathe for a second.

“Good morning,” Jeremy said, shifting a bit so he could brush Jean’s hair away from his face.

“Morning,” Jean mumbled softly in response.

“Actually, I think it’s closer to afternoon at this point,” said another voice from near the door.

Jeremy turned and propped himself up on his elbows before hoisting himself into a sitting position. Jean looked up to see a woman he hadn’t met yet but who unmistakably resembled Jeremy and his siblings standing with her hip propped against the living room doorway. He made to sit up himself, as if that could help this horrendously awkward situation any. It didn't help that Jeremy scooted closer to him as soon as he was upright.

“What time is it?” Jeremy asked, reaching his arms up to stretch them out and yawn.

The woman arched an eyebrow at him but pulled out a phone to check. “Eleven forty-five,” she said before pocketing the phone again. With that out of the way, she turned on Jean. “You must be Jean Moreau,” she said. She continued after Jean nodded confirmation. “Good to finally put a face to the name my brother won’t shut up about. I’m Michelle.”

Jean vaguely remembered Jeremy mentioning a sibling with that name and deduced that must have been who this woman was. “Um,” he said, his face a little flushed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Did you want something?” Jeremy asked his older sister.

Michelle shot him a look. “What, I can’t hang out in my own living room? This is a shared space, you know. You do have, like, an actual bedroom upstairs.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Fair enough.” He spotted something and reached over to the end table, where a glass of hot (or, what used to be hot and was likely ice cold by now) chocolate was still sitting, untouched and completely forgotten. He made a face and got to his feet, grabbing the cups from both end tables and brining them into the kitchen. Michelle sent one last look at Jean before she followed after her brother.

Jean took the opportunity to grab his bag from where it still sat on the floor and head upstairs to shower and collect his thoughts. Jean brought his bag into the upstairs bathroom with him and locked the door behind him. He took his time in the shower, washing away the flight and subsequent anxiety attack and wondering where he went from here. He still couldn’t quite see what Jeremy would possibly see in someone like him. There was part of him that knew he came with far too much baggage, (both thanks to years of abuse and trauma and the fact that he had a deal with the literal yakuza hanging over his head) and that part of him thought it would be best for him not to drag Jeremy into that world. But there was also a part of him that wanted this, whatever _this_ was, too badly to just stop now. After all, if Kevin could have a team who he called family and find ways to be happy with similar issues weighing him down, maybe Jean could find his own version of that.

Jean let the water run until it started to get cold before finally getting out and pulling clothes out of his bag. The first thing he grabbed ended up being the hoodie Jeremy had given him back in the fall. He felt like a sentimental fool when he felt that spark of warmth in his chest again, but in the end he didn’t care and put it on anyways, along with a pair of sweats. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, but eventually he found the courage to face the day.

He hesitated in the hallway, but eventually he made his way to Jeremy’s room. Jeremy was sitting on his bed with his laptop open in front of him, and Jean paused in the doorway. What did he do now? What did he say to Jeremy after last night? How was he supposed to act around him now? Was he supposed to go over and kiss him again or should he just go on with his day like nothing had happened?

Before Jean could make up his mind, Jeremy looked up and smiled at him. He patted the bed beside him and gestured for Jean to join him. Jean hesitated for a minute, but before long he crossed the room and sat beside Jeremy, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his legs. Jeremy shut his laptop and turned to face Jean. “Nice sweater,” he said, glancing down and pinching the red fabric between his fingers.

“Thanks,” Jean said subconsciously leaning a little closer to Jeremy. “A friend gave it to me.”

Jeremy dropped his hand and let it rest on top of Jean’s, slowly lacing their fingers together. Jean had never exactly been a fan of his fingers since Riko’s abuse left most of them a little bit crooked; a consequence of having play while they were broken and thus not giving them time to heal properly. But he couldn’t help but think that he liked them when they were linked with Jeremy’s. Jean probably would’ve looked down at their joined hands, but he was too focused on Jeremy’s face. Nothing had really changed, but it felt like everything had, and it seemed impossible to look away.

“My sister’s making pancakes for breakfast,” Jeremy said.

“Breakfast? It’s afternoon.” Jean said, a puzzled expression on his face.

“The Knox children are naturally late sleepers,” Jeremy responded with a shrug. “It’s the first meal of the day, so it counts as breakfast.”

Jean would’ve complained, but he realized he hadn’t actually eaten anything since before his flight yesterday, so he nodded. “You’d think having to be up at six for practice would’ve helped you with that,” Jean reasoned.

Jeremy grinned. “What can I say? I’m stubborn and I like my sleep.” He gently squeezed Jean’s hand. Jean didn’t know how he could be so casual about things like that when just the slightest touch sent Jean's heart racing.

“I’m aware,” Jean finally said, once he was sure he could speak normally. “I’m usually the one who has to wake you up in the morning.”

Jeremy laughed, leaning forward. “Not a bad way to wake up, in my defense.”

Jean didn’t know what to say to that. He went back and forth between wondering what the hell Jeremy saw in him and wanting to lean in further and close the gap between them. A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. Michelle opened the door and poked her head in. “Food’s ready,” she announced, and left again immediately.

Jeremy looked up at his open door and then back at Jean. “Hungry?”

Jean was, so he nodded, to spite not really wanting to leave this spot at the moment.

Jeremy nodded back, and got up from the bed, which unfortunately meant he had to let go of Jean’s hand. Jean followed him, but at the last second before Jeremy could leave the room, Jean grabbed his arm, and, when Jeremy turned back to face him, Jean leaned down and pressed his lips against Jeremy’s. He pulled away again after only a second, but it was enough. “Okay,” he said, “now we can go.”

Jeremy blinked, frozen in place, and nodded again. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

Jean proceeded him out of the room, taking a bit of satisfaction from the fact that Jeremy seemed just as dazed as he was.

Michelle was already half way through her breakfast when they came down to get some food for themselves. Since the table was still cluttered and unusable, Jean and Jeremy took up seats around the breakfast bar to eat in the kitchen itself. “Where’s everyone else?” Jeremy asked his older sister once he’d taken his seat.

Michelle shrugged. “Sash and James are still asleep, but I think mom and dad took Talia and Collin out with them somewhere.”

Jeremy nodded, and then perked up, dropping his fork on his plate. “Oh! Hey, Shelly, where’s that thing?”

Michelle looked at him for a solid thirty seconds before answering. “What thing? Be more specific, Jer.”

“You know,” Jeremy said, leaning across the counter and gesturing expansively. “That thing that mom made.”

Michelle looked back and forth between Jean and Jeremy a few times before nodding. “Oh. I thought she gave it to you?” When Jeremy shook his head, she shrugged. “Try the hall closet?”

Jeremy nodded. “Good idea,” he said, hopping off his chair and heading for the entryway.

Jean had barely said two words to Michelle since his arrival, but he also didn’t want to sit in silence for however long Jeremy was gone. “What was that about?” He asked.

Michelle shrugged and took a bit of her breakfast. “Ask him,” she said after she’d swallowed, pointing with her fork in the direction Jeremy had disappeared in.

Jean was a bit bewildered, but he decided to listen to her and turned back to his breakfast. Jeremy was back a moment later, and he had something ticked under his arms, but Jean couldn’t quite tell what it was. “Found it,” he announced happily to Michelle, who smiled at her brother.

“What did you find?” Jean asked.

“I’ll show you later,” Jeremy answered, reaching out to run his fingers lightly through Jean’s hair, which was still a bit wet from the shower. Jean accepted that and finished eating in relative silence. When they were done, Jeremy dropped both of their plates in the sink and headed back upstairs, taking Jean’s hand again to make sure he followed. Jean would’ve gone with him anyway, but he still didn’t drop Jeremy’s hand as they went back upstairs.

Jean sat back down on Jeremy’s bad, his back against the wall once again and one of his knees tucked up to his chest. Jeremy sat down opposite him, crossing his legs. “Okay,” he said. “Here. Merry Christmas.” He handed over the bundle of whatever-the-fuck. “My mom made it. She was gonna wrap it, but she thought I wouldn’t see you again for like another week, so.” He shrugged.

Jean took the thing from him, and upon further inspection it turned out to be a sweater, made from soft, light blue yarn. Jean recalled Jeremy texting to ask what his favorite color was, but he had no idea this was why he’d needed that information. “Your mother… Made this for me?” He asked.

“Mhmm,” Jeremy nodded. “Sorry, I was gonna get you something, too, but I thought I had more time to shop.” He shrugged.

Jean felt… Something. A lot of something. He was simultaneously guilty because he hadn’t even considered getting Jeremy or anyone else a gift, and a bit floored, because no one had ever even considered getting him any sort of gifts, either, and then of course he was also overwhelmed that Jeremy’s mother had put time and energy into making something for him, and. Well. It was a bit much.

“I didn’t get anyone anything,” Jean said softly, turning the sweater over and over in his hands.

“That’s fine,” Jeremy said with a small shrug and a smile. “I mean, like I said, I don’t have anything for you either.”

Jean nodded and went to put on the newest addition to his wardrobe. He didn’t know why he needed so many sweatshirts living in LA, but he was developing a soft spot for sweaters gifted to him by members of the Knox family. He’d forgotten that he wasn’t wearing a shirt under the hoodie he was currently wearing until it was already over his head. It wasn’t like he hadn’t changed out in front of Jeremy before. After all, they did play on the same team and share a locker room every day. But in the locker room everyone was focused on pulling on their own gear, and they weren’t sitting a scant few inches away from each other.

Jean didn’t want to feel self-conscious about his scars. He tried his best to think of them as marks of what he’d survived, but that was something easier said than done when they were literally physical reminders of Riko that would never completely fade. Jeremy had been decent enough not to say anything about them, but he’d never seen them in close quarters like this. Jean was hardly paying attention to him until he reached out and wrapped his fingers gently around Jean’s wrist, trying to get a better look at what he saw there. Of course, _those_ would be the scars he zeroed in on.

Jean stilled, forgetting the sweater for a second, and looked up at Jeremy. Jeremy’s face was dark and unreadable, but when Jean tugged his arm out of his grip he let go without resistance. Of all the marks left on his body, he hated those the most. In his mind, at least, they were the only marks not of what he’d survived, but of how close he’d come to _not_ surviving. They were physical reminders of his weakest moments, of how desperately he’d wanted a way out. He pulled his new sweatshirt on over his head, his motions a little jerkier than they really needed to be.

Jean wasn’t about to break the silence, because he didn’t know how, but when Jeremy did it wasn’t what Jean expected to hear at all. “I hope Tetsuji Moriyama never works again in his life. I hope he fades into obscurity and dies penniless and alone.” Jeremy shook his head. “And I’d wish worse for Riko, for he’s already dead.”

Jean blinked at him. He’d never heard something so spiteful come out of Jeremy’s mouth, it was… different. “To be fair, I did most of those ones myself,” Jean said in a weak attempt at breaking the tension.

That got Jeremy’s attention, and he looked up and met Jean’s eyes. He opened his mouth, decided against it, and shut it again. Finally, he said, “Most?”

Figuring the harm was already done, Jean pulled back his sleeve a little to display the rings around his wrist left by handcuffs. He tapped the marks with his index finger. “These ones were Riko,” he said, surprised at how bland his voice sounded.

Jean didn’t know what reaction he was going to get, but it was still a small shock when Jeremy reached out and threaded his fingers through Jean’s. The touch was light at first, a gentle question to make sure Jean was okay with this, and when Jean nodded his head slightly Jeremy tightened his grip and pulled Jean's forearm up to his mouth and pressed a feather-light kiss to his skin, sending a shiver through Jean’s entire body. The expression on his face was a little more readable, and it looked… Too sad to be worn by someone like Jeremy. It wasn’t fair that Jean was causing him that kind of distress. He squeezed Jean’s hand lightly. “I keep thinking, ‘it can’t get any worse than what he already told me,’ but it always does, and I hate knowing that you had to go through that,” he said, shaking his head.

“I haven’t even told you the worst of it,” Jean said before he could stop himself.

Jeremy pursed his lips. “That shouldn’t surprise me. After all this time it really shouldn’t. But—“

“I think it should,” Jean cut in. “Any decent human being should probably be shocked hearing about the Nest.”

Jeremy nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, probably.” He sighed, and Jean reached forward. He tapped the corner of Jeremy’s mouth with his thumb and slid his hand upward until his palm was cupping Jeremy’s cheek.

“I’m out now,” Jean said, in an attempt to wipe that sadness from Jeremy’s face.

Jeremy nodded. He reached up with his free hand to grab the hand Jean had on his cheek, bringing it down so he could kiss Jean’s knuckles. “Thank god for that,” Jeremy breathed.

“Stop that,” Jean said. “Melancholy doesn’t suit you, Knox.” This time it was his turn to squeeze Jeremy’s hand.

Jeremy managed a laugh at that, but it sounded shaky at best. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you about that. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being upset about what happened to you.”

Jean didn’t know what to tell him, either, so instead of talking he leaned in and busied their mouths with something else. Jeremy leaned into the kiss, sliding his hands up into Jean’s hair while Jean wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s back. When Jean had to lean back to catch a breath, Jeremy didn’t let him get far and chased after his lips to steal another kiss. It was electric and exhilarating and terrifying all at once, but Jean didn’t ever want this to stop.

It did stop, eventually, some indeterminate amount of time later, because no matter how much Jean wanted this, wanted Jeremy, there were certain memories from his life in the Nest which made him pull away after a while before things could get too intense. He leaned back, resting his back against the wall and his forehead against Jeremy’s, taking a moment to catch his breath and get his heart rate under control.

“Is this just, like, a thing we do now?” Jeremy asked, still close enough that Jean could feel his breath on his lips.

Jean laughed quietly. “It can be, if you want.”

“Come on, Moreau, we’ve been over this,” Jeremy said, tracing one of his thumbs down the most prominent scar on Jean’s cheek. Jean thought that maybe if Jeremy could treat his scars with such a gentle, reverent touch, than maybe they weren’t so bad after all. “I’m crazy about you, remember?”

Jean smiled. “Laila’s going to be so goddamn smug about this,” he said, giving his head a little shake.

Jeremy laughed and moved so he was sitting beside Jean, their sides pressed together. “Oh god. So is Alvarez.”

“I don’t know why I’m friends with these people,” Jean complained half-heartedly.

“They’re good people,” Jeremy supplied for him, and Jean couldn’t argue with that. All the Trojans were good people. Way too good.

They spent most of the rest of the afternoon just talking. Jeremy told stories about his childhood, and Jean tried to reciprocate, but most of his memories were of the Nest and he didn’t want to relieve any of that, and he was fairly certain Jeremy didn’t want to hear it, either. Eventually Jeremy grabbed his laptop and the few DVDs he had scattered around his room. He looked through them, not asking for Jean’s input because he knew Jean still hadn’t bothered to learn a damn thing about pop culture. Eventually his eyes lit up and he settled on one.

“This is like, one of my favorite movies in the world,” he told Jean. “It’s a classic.”

Jean just decided to take his word for it. Jeremy inserted the disc in his laptop and sat down beside Jean again. The movie was alright. It was an animated thing about a blue alien trying to evade capture and make a life for himself in Hawaii, or something to that effect. Jean didn’t want to admit how much it wound up getting to him when this creature who started out as just a number built for cruelty found a family and a life he loved, but it hit home in a way animated children’s movies shouldn’t be allowed to and left him feeling oddly hollow. Jean resolutely Did Not mention that to Jeremy, but he did lean over so he could lay his head down on Jeremy’s shoulder, and it was a nice surprise when Jeremy brought his hand up and started running his fingers through his hair.

After that, there was more talking than kissing, although there were a few kisses, too. Jean was starting to understand why Tetsuji never allowed his team to socialize like this. This was definitely a distraction from the game. For the first time in years Jean found something he cared about more than Exy.

Later that afternoon, Jeremy’s mother came back to the house. She seemed unsurprised to find Jean in her home, and she was positively thrilled her liked her gift. She fawned over him like she might one of her own children, which was odd, but left Jean and Jeremy alone after a while. That night was New Year’s Eve, and Jean watched the countdown to a new year downstairs with Jeremy and what was left of his family. (His parents had gone out, and Sasha and James were with friends, but Michelle and Jeremy’s two youngest siblings had stayed behind.) Jeremy kissed him at midnight, soft and quick but still enough to leave Jean’s heart racing. If this was any indicator of how the rest of the new year would go, Jean could definitely live with that.

That night, Jeremy took the couch and let Jean sleep in his room. Jean was grateful for the space. As much as he wanted to be around Jeremy, he still had a long way to go in the process of recovery and he didn’t know how to do this (whatever ‘this’ was; he still couldn’t quite figure that out) properly, so being given a bit of time to catch his breath was nice. His thoughts kept returning to Jeremy as he tried to drift off to sleep, but when he finally managed to get some rest he slept better than he had in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK U for reading and giving my first piece of writing a chance honestly!!! 
> 
> ill do my best to update again asap~


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is: 1/3 shamelessly self-indulgent fluff, 1/3 Deep Conversations™, and 1/3 laila and alvarez being little shits.
> 
> v soft, and v lighthearted for the most part bc ive decided enough terrible things have happened to jean and im going to be nice to him as much as i possibly can!

As far as Jean was concerned, New Year’s had never been something to celebrate. Sure, it was a marker that he’d made it through another year, but that was about it. Nothing ever changed, and all that symbolic nonsense about a new beginning or whatever-the-fuck normal people associated with the holiday was usually completely lost on him. But, for once, he felt like maybe the year stretching out ahead of him actually had the chance to bring him something new, something better. A little part of him, the part of him that he knew wouldn’t go away anytime soon, the part that still had a lot of healing to get through, hated how optimistic he felt and told him to stop getting his hopes up. But for once he was able to reign in those thoughts and allow himself to feel hopeful.

January 1st started off on a very pleasant note. Jean woke up to Jeremy brushing his fingers through Jean’s hair, sitting on the floor a few feet from the bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his hair still tousled from sleep. When Jean opened his eyes, Jeremy withdrew his hand and smiled. “Hey,” he said. “Sorry. I tried knocking first, but you were pretty out of it, I guess.”

For a moment, all Jean did was let himself bask in the warm feeling that his still half-asleep mind seemed to be practically drowning in. “This is a first,” he finally said, propping himself up on his elbows and slanting a look over at Jeremy. “Jeremy Knox is awake before I am,” he mused, his mouth quirking up in a small grin.

Jeremy ducked his head. “I know, right?” He said. “Honestly though, it’s not by choice. My siblings can be fucking terrors sometimes.”

Jean snorted. “At least someone in your family has a decent routine.”

“Says you,” Jeremy said defensively, “but you’re the one still sleeping at eleven-thirty.”

“Not my fault. You’re the one who’s been keeping me up all hours of the night,” Jean pointed out.

Jeremy shrugged. “It didn’t really seem like you minded very much,” he said in a sort of mock-innocent tone.

God help him, Jean really didn’t, but it wasn’t like he could just say that. He was almost relieved when he didn’t have to. Across the room where he’d plugged it in to charge for the night, his phone started buzzing.Jean cast a look in its direction, but when he made no move to grab it, Jeremy scooted over and took it off the charger, returning to Jean with it in his hands. Jean took it from him and tried to focus on the screen, which was kind of a challenge with the vestiges of sleep still hanging around in his head. He scrunched up his nose. “Laila is calling,” he announced, and handed his phone back to Jeremy. He wasn’t quite awake enough yet to handle the girls.

Jeremy looked at the phone and then back up at Jean. “What, am I supposed to answer it?”

Jean hadn’t intended that, but he shrugged. “If you want to, I suppose.”

Jeremy considered that for a moment before accepting the call and putting Jean’s phone to his ear. “Hey, Laila,” he said. He waited for a response and then nodded. “No, yeah, you did. Yeah. No, this is his phone.” He leaned forward and leaned an elbow on the edge of the bed, resting his face in the palm of his hand and tapping his fingers against his cheek while he listened to Laila’s response. Jean couldn’t resist, and he reached out with one hand and ran his fingers through Jeremy’s hair, smoothing it down where it was still messy from the night. “What? I don’t know. Yeah.” He laughed at whatever Laila said. “Okay.” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “She wants to talk to you.”

Jean sat up and scooted back so his back was against the wall. He took his phone from Jeremy. “Hello?” He said.

“When did you get back to California?” Laila’s indignant voice demanded. “Oh, and Alvarez says hi.”

Jean returned Alvarez’s greeting before moving onto Laila's question. “A couple days ago? My return flight was on the 30th.” As he was speaking, Jeremy climbed onto the bed and sat down next to him, throwing the blanket he’d brought in with him over both of their legs.

“Wooow,” Laila said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Jean said. “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

“I mean, it’s not like you _have to_ or anything.” She laughed. “But, y’know, last time I checked you were in North Dakota, and then I call you and _Jeremy_ picks up. So, kind of surprising, you know?”

“I’ll try and keep you more informed next time,” Jean told her.

“Good good good.” Laila chirped, and paused briefly. “So, how’s your break going?”

Beside him, Jeremy seemed about ready to nod off again. He laid his head down on Jean’s shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and draping his arms around Jean’s shoulders. Jean put an arm around Jeremy's back and rubbed small circles there with his thumb.  _Fucking phenomenally_ , he thought. “It’s fine,” he answered simply. “Yours?”

“Really, really, swell,” Laila responded earnestly. “Hey, speaking of breaks and a certain Captain Sunshine, did Renee talk to you?”

“Well, I spent two weeks at her house, so yes, we did exchange a few words,” was all Jean said, and then, partly to escape from the conversation and partly because Jeremy really was about to fall asleep on his shoulder, he nudged the other boy gently. “Jeremy, you can’t go back to sleep. It’s almost noon.”

Laila laughed in his ear. Jeremy shrugged him off at first, but after a few seconds he sighed and straightened up again. “It’s winter break,” he complained, at the same time Laila made a comment about their captain’s terrible routine.

Before Laila could bring the conversation back to topics he didn’t feel like discussing with her right now, Jean said, “Laila, I’ll talk to you later. I have to go.”

Laila started on what sounded like a protest, but Jean could hear Alvarez in the background saying something that stopped her. “Alright,” she finally said. “Later, Moreau.”

Jean hung up and looked up at Jeremy, who was holding his face up in one hand with his elbow balanced on one knee. It was stupidly endearing, like most things Jeremy did. Jean sighed, switching to French because he couldn’t quite bring himself to say what he was about to say in a language Jeremy could understand. “You are so fucking cute,” he said.

Jeremy cocked his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jean replied in English. "It's not important."

“Rude,” Jeremy said. “I thought you said you’d teach me French.”

“You have to start with the basics,” Jean said. “Then you can get to…” He waved his hand around vaguely. “The other stuff.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but at least he looked more awake now. “Hey, Jean?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” Jeremy asked.

Jean blinked. He didn’t know why Jeremy would even need to ask. He nodded, and Jeremy pulled him down until their lips met. Jean twisted his fingers into the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt, feeling like he needed something hold onto. Kissing Jeremy was something Jean would never get used to and never grow tired of, he was fairly certain. He never thought he’d be able to enjoy something like this after what Riko had done to him. He counted it as a victory both against Riko and for his own recovery that he was not only okay with this, but actually _wanted_ it. He felt safe with Jeremy.

Jeremy retreated out of his space too soon, but he was smiling up at Jean, so he could live with that, for now. His eyes studied Jean’s face before he let out a thoughtful hum.

Jean tilted his head to one side. “Yes?”

“I have an idea, hang on” Jeremy said, climbing off the bed and crossing the room to his desk. He opened a couple drawers and rummaged around in them until he found what he was looking for. When he came back to Jean’s side, he was holding a Sharpie in one hand. “Can I try something?” He asked.

Jean had an idea of what Jeremy was talking about, and it sent a little jolt through his body. He nodded anyway; even temporarily obscuring that awful number on his face was… exhilarating, in its own way. One day he’d find the courage to cover it permanently like Kevin had, but this would do for now. Jeremy leaned in, placing one hand on Jean’s shoulder while he brought the marker up to his face. There was a stark contrast between the cold tip of the pen and Jeremy’s warm hand resting on his shoulder, and when he was done Jeremy capped the Sharpie again and tossed it off the bed onto the floor. “Alright,” he said, “done.”

Jean didn’t want to have to get up to look at it, so he picked up his phone and tried to catch his reflection in the darkened screen. It took him a minute to locate his tattoo in the tiny screen, and it was strange to see it as anything else besides a ‘3.’ Jeremy’s addition was simple. He’d just added two lines to turn the number into a sideways heart on Jean’s cheek, but it still left a now-familiar warm feeling in his chest. _Of course_ Jeremy would draw something like that on his face. Jean leaned forward for another kiss, because frankly that was the only fitting response he could think of right then.

“Okay,” Jeremy said, once they’d broken apart. “Does that mean you like it?”

“Yes,” Jean said, a little awkwardly. He was… God, just so completely out of his depth here. “It means I like you.”

“Oh,” Jeremy nodded, smiling brilliantly. “Cool.”

 

-

 

Jean figured out pretty early on in his Trojan career that Jeremy was a physically affectionate person, all casual touches and hugs and brushes of fingers. But now that he and Jean were doing… Whatever they were doing, (Jean still didn’t know what to call it) he upped his game by about 100 percent. Jean would’ve thought all that touchy-feely crap would bother him, but for the most part he had to admit he actually enjoyed it. He still had his moments, when the Nest seemed too close and he needed to back off, but Jeremy was always happy to give him space when he needed it. Jeremy didn’t see a need to tone down said affection around his family, either, which admittedly took a while to get used to. Jean’s knee-jerk reaction was still to hide anything which could be seen as an exploitable weakness, but Jeremy’s family seemed unfazed and unsurprised to see Jeremy take Jean’s hand, or press a kiss to his temple, or brush his fingers through his hair.

Jean almost didn’t want winter break to end. He and Jeremy had been in their own little bubble for the week they spent at his house, and Jean didn’t know what to expect when they went back to campus, to the real world.

It startled him when, on Thursday, the day before Jeremy and Jean were planning to head back to the dorms, Jean realized he hadn’t set foot on a court since the Trojans' last match of the season. That was almost an entire month with no practice, no Exy at all, and Jean hadn’t even batted an eye. Riko would be fuming if he knew. Well, no, Riko would not be fuming, because if Riko was still alive he never would have allowed Jean to take a month off from Exy. There was something thrilling about defying Riko, even if it was posthumously. That thrill was almost cancelled out by the last vestiges of his ingrained Raven mentality that Jean still couldn’t shake entirely, but what tipped the scales in Jean’s favor was the fact that he’d spent his break with the woman who’d saved his life and the man who gave him hope for the future and reminded him how to smile.

On Friday afternoon they drove back to USC to prepare for the start of the spring semester. The parking lot out front of the dorm building was only half-full, but Jean knew that it would be packed again by Sunday. When Jean pushed open the door to their room, he realized he’d left the light on in his rush to get the hell out of there a week prior. He flicked the switch off and on again in annoyance but Jeremy just shrugged. “Good thing we don’t pay utilities,” he said, shutting the door behind him with his foot and dropping his bag on the couch.

Jean actually brought his backpack back to the bedroom, but all he did was drop it on his bed. He could unpack later. He gave the room a cursory glance. He hadn’t been gone very long, but it had been a long enough absence that the room felt distinctly un-lived in. It had that chill of a place that hadn’t been occupied for a while. When he turned back towards the living room, Jeremy was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. He grinned when he caught Jean’s attention, and Jean felt electricity go up his spine. He stepped up close to Jeremy, who put his hands on Jean’s waist and pulled him closer. “Hi,” Jeremy said, looking up into Jean’s eyes, his grin fading to something softer.

Jean brought one of his hands up to rest on Jeremy’s chest. “Hello,” he said.

At first, when Jeremy leaned in, it was nothing more than a slight press of lips. Jeremy leaned back, but didn’t get very far. He paused, barely a breath away, and Jean wasn’t sure which one of them leaned back in first. This wasn’t the first time they’d kissed like this, deep and heated, like kids who couldn’t keep their fucking hands off each other. But there was something different about this. It took Jean a moment to realize what that difference was, though.

Back at Jeremy’s house, they had never really been alone. Sure, Jeremy had his own room, but he shared a wall with his two baby brothers who were 11 and 12 years old, and the rest of his siblings were within spitting distance. Not to mention Jeremy’s family only tended to knock about half the time before entering a room. The point being, they had their moments, but had never really had enough privacy for the possibility of really doing anything… more than kissing.

But now, they were completely alone in a room that belonged to them and them alone, and Jean was acutely aware of it. He tensed up, using his hand on Jeremy’s chest to push away from him. “Wait,” he said.

Jeremy withdrew immediately, removing his hands from Jean’s hips and looking up at him. “You okay?”

Jean took a deep breath to steady himself. He retreated and sat down on his bed. “Can we talk about something?” He asked.

“Of course,” Jeremy said. “Can I join you?” When Jean nodded, Jeremy crossed the room to sit on the bed with Jean. “What’s up?” He asked, once he’d situated himself.

Jean turned so he was sitting sideways and facing Jeremy, one of his legs still dangling off the bed while he pulled the other close to his body. Jean was fluent in three languages, could procrastinate a ten-page essay and write it all in one day and still get a decent grade on it, but words were completely failing him right now. He had no idea how to start this conversation, but he figured it was a necessary one to have. “I’m not sure—" He shook his head, aborting the sentence midway through before trying again. “I don’t… I don’t know what you’re… Expecting, or, what—" He frowned, irritated beyond the telling at his own nerves. _Use your fucking words, Moreau_ , he told himself, even as he felt his chest tightening. “Listen. I’m not— I’m not ready to… to do anything... more than, you know, kissing.” He finally managed to get out, tapping his fingers agitatedly against his ankle. He just felt like one needed an actual sense of autonomy and personhood before one could really consent to sex or anything like that, and that was still something he was working on. “It can’t— we can’t go any further than that yet.”

“Hey,” Jeremy said, with a soft sort of intensity only someone like Jeremy could manage. Jean looked up to meet his eyes, and Jeremy reached out. He stopped with his hands hovering a few inches from Jean’s. “Can I?” He asked, waiting to get Jean’s nodded consent before he took Jean’s hands in his own. “Listen to me, okay?” Jean nodded, and Jeremy gently squeezed his hands. “I really hope I’m not pressuring your or making you think I’m expecting anything from you, because we don’t have to do anything you’re not okay with. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

Jean searched Jeremy’s face, and found that he believed him. Of course he’d been expecting it, Jeremy had done nothing but respect Jean’s boundaries since the day they met, but it was still such a relief he felt a soft smile break out on his face. He still had no idea what he possibly had to offer someone like Jeremy, but he’d take it, as long as it meant they didn’t have to stop doing _this_. “You’re too good,” he said, before he could stop himself. The added ‘ _for me,_ ’ went unsaid, and Jean wasn’t sure if Jeremy picked up on it.

Jeremy smiled in return. “Really, I’m just being a decent person.”

“I haven’t known many decent people in my life,” Jean said.

“Well,” Jeremy said, bringing Jean’s hands to his lips and pressing kisses to his knuckles. “I’m gonna make up for that, okay? I’m gonna be such a kickass boyfriend.”

Jean raised his eyebrows. “ _Are_ you my boyfriend now?” He asked.

“I mean, typically when I spend a week pretty much constantly making out with someone, I like to consider them my boyfriend,” Jeremy said. “Unless that’s not what you want,” he was hasty to add.

“No, that’s… That’s what I want,” Jean said slowly, and marveled at the fact that for once in his life it seemed like he might actually get something he wanted. Riko had drilled it into his head a long time ago that _exactly_ this would never happen. Fuck Riko, he didn’t know shit. “It’s just… All of this is new to me,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, because I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”

“Honestly, no one really does,” Jeremy said. “You’re doing fine.”

Jean managed a quiet laugh, and he used their joined hands to pull Jeremy closer. He didn’t kiss him, but instead just rested his forehead against Jeremy’s. They both seemed content to just sit there and enjoy each other’s company.

 

-

 

There was still no food in the dorm, but neither one of them were keen to go grocery shopping at the moment, so Jeremy ordered takeout for dinner instead. They ate in the living room, and then Jeremy turned the TV on and flipped through the stations until he found something decent to watch. Not that it mattered in the end, because they pretty much stopped watching not even ten minutes in. Jean didn’t know how in the hell he was ever going to get anything done in the coming semester when he shared a room with Jeremy, but it was still a good way to spend a Friday night.

Saturday started off with another unscheduled visit from the girls. As usual, Jean was awake before Jeremy, and he was in the kitchen making coffee (they might not have had any groceries, but they were college athletes, and they _always_ had a stash of coffee beans on hand) when Laila and Alvarez knocked on the door. Jean was fairly certain the door was unlocked, and at 8:30 in the morning he didn’t even need to check who it could be, so he just called for them to come in so he could finish preparing the coffee.

“Heeeey,” Alvarez called as she stepped into the dorm with Laila on her heels.

Jean looked over his shoulder and watched them enter. Alvarez went and sat on the arm of the couch so she was facing the kitchen, but Laila came over to Jean and leaned against the counter a couple feet away from him. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jean said. “Any particular reason you two like to turn up uninvited at such early hours?” He got the coffee brewing and turned to face Laila, propping his hip against the counter.

Laila opened her mouth like she was about to answer, but she stopped dead before she could get a word out. Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened a bit. “Oh my god,” she said. “Moreau, what in the fresh fucking hell is that?” She demanded, reaching out and grabbing his chin so she could turn his face to one side.

Jean blinked. “What’s what?” He asked, smacking Laila’s hand away and reaching up to his face instinctively. At first he thought she was talking about his tattoo. Jeremy had doodled over it a couple times before leaving his house, but Jean was pretty sure he'd washed the last of the ink off in the shower yesterday morning.

Instead of answering, Laila turned to Alvarez. “Babe,” she called. “Babe, get over here.”

Alvarez raised her eyebrows, but she hopped off the couch and strode over to Laila. She perched an arm on Laila’s shoulder and leaned on her. Jean still didn’t know what the hell their deal was, but it only took Alvarez a second to catch on. When she did, a massive grin broke out on her face and she giggled.

“What?” Jean asked, confusion making him frown deeper than he had in awhile.

“Jeremy!” Alvarez called, again opting against giving Jean a straight fucking answer, because of course it would never be that simple with her and her girlfriend.

Jean glanced backwards and was relieved to see the noise the three of them were making had apparently woken Jeremy. He appeared in the hallway, bleary eyed and looking as confused as Jean felt.

“Jeremy Knox, explain yourself,” Alvarez demanded.

Jeremy blinked at her. “Wha-?” He asked, voice still heavy from sleep. Laila beckoned him over. Jeremy made a face, but he came into the kitchen and stood beside the girls.

Laila pointed at Jean. “What did you do?” She asked.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, noticing whatever it was that had the girls so worked up. Something shifted in his expression and his cheeks flushed. “Oops.”

“Honestly,” Alvarez said. “It looks like someone smacked him with an Exy ball or something.”

“What are you talking about?” Jean tried again, looking back and forth between the three of them.

Laila finally took pity on him. “Just, go look in the mirror,” she told him, pursing her lips in a poor attempt to hide a smirk.

Jean was willing to listen if it meant getting a damned explanation. He shot the girls one last look, which he hoped was scathing but was probably more confused than anything, and headed down the hall to the bathroom. Jean flicked on the bathroom light and walked over to the sink to inspect his reflection for whatever had caught the girl's attention, which turned out to be not too hard to spot. He made a face, his eyes drawn to a splotchy purple mess on his neck. Jean wasn’t an idiot. He may have been new to this whole romance thing, but he knew what a hickey was.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about this. On one hand, he was a bit exasperated, because _for god's sake_ , this was so childish it was almost embarrassing. But on the other hand, there was something that struck him about seeing a mark left by something other than brutality on his body. Instead of just another painful memory to add to his extensive collection, this mark would make him think of last night, sprawled on the couch with Jeremy practically in his lap and kissing down his neck. He realized he was staring, and he tore his eyes away and left the bathroom.

The other three were still hanging around in the kitchen when Jean rejoined them. Jeremy was sitting up on the counter top, holding a cup of the coffee Jean had been brewing. Alvarez was standing next to him and leaning with her hip on the counter, while Laila was standing beside her. Laila was the first to notice Jean and grinned at whatever she saw on his face. “So,” she said, “I guess our Jeremy is a fucking vampire, huh?”

“How do you even know it was me?” Jeremy protested.

Alvarez scoffed. “Please. Who else would Jean let suck on his neck like that?”

“Maybe I was hit with an Exy ball,” Jean said pointlessly, walking up to stand with Jeremy and the girls. He didn’t even know why he was trying to deny it. He and Jeremy had already discussed the situation and decided they didn't really mind if the rest of the team knew there was something going on between them. Maybe it was just because he felt unbelievably childish, like he was in middle school or something. Although he supposed maybe he should stop equating the word ‘childish’ with _negative_  things. He’d never exactly had a childhood, what was the harm in living those experiences now?

“We wear neck guards, kiddo,” Alvarez reminded him.

Jean snorted, and then let out an actual laugh. “Fuck. I know,” he said, shaking his head, knowing it was as good as a confession. “I haven’t even played since last semester.” He couldn’t even hide the grin which was left over on his face. It didn’t help any that the other three were staring bemusedly at him. He focused on Jeremy, because, well, how could he not? Jeremy was looking back at him with his eyebrows raised and his lips slightly parted. If the girls weren’t here Jean thought he’d kiss him right now.

“Wow,” Laila said. “I don’t even know which thread to follow: that you two finally got together, or that Jean hasn’t been on a court for a month.”

“How about that we actually got this one to laugh?” Alvarez suggested, pointing at Jean.

Laila nodded. “That too,” she said. “So much to process, and it’s not even nine AM.”

Jean leaned against the counter next to Jeremy, and shrugged. “You’re the ones who constantly invade our apartment at such early hours,” he reminded them. “You could’ve waited for afternoon or something for all of this.”

“Naw, at this point its’s just tradition to come over in the morning,” Alvarez said with a shrug.

“Yeah, and speaking of,” Laila cut in. “You guys wanna get breakfast with us? There’s no food at our place.”

There wasn’t any in the boys’ dorm, either, so eventually Jean and Jeremy agreed to head out with the girls. They also went to the grocery store together after breakfast, and Alvarez eventually wound up in the basket of their cart, with Laila pushing her around the store. Jean wanted to criticize them, but he was still in an oddly good mood, so he let it slide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like okay im a lesbian but im a little in love with jeremy knox, and i think i might be projecting that onto this entire fic lmao


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first off - thank u all so much for such kind comments & all the kudos. it means the world to me. literally. i was very very vvvvvery anxious to post my writing, but you guys gave me such a warm reception it genuinely made me cry :') so ya yall r fuckin mvps in my book
> 
> uuuhhh honestly i tried to make this chapter Serious™ but it turns out everything i write eventually turns into fluff. lmao. Um. ya.

Monday was enough to put an end to Jean’s good mood.

For the most part, the first day of the spring semester went okay. In fact, the first few hours were downright pleasant. Rhemann cancelled morning practice to give his team the opportunity to get some extra rest before their first day back at school, which Jeremy at least was vocally in favor of. As far as classes themselves were concerned, Jean couldn't find anything to complain about. His first class of the day was a math class he had with Laila, and the other was an art history course he'd somehow been talked into taking. Well, the course itself wasn't what he'd been talking into, but the concept of signing up for it. Art history wasn't required for his major, but was instead something Jean thought he might find interesting. 

Ravens knew they came to Edgar Allen University for one reason only: to play Exy, and they sacrificed the typical college experience in order to play for the best team in the nation Schooling was a secondary concern for Ravens, and all they had to do was maintain the minimum GPA required to stay on the team. If he could, Tetsuji likely would've pulled his team from classes entirely and kept them at the Nest full time. But since you kind of had to attend college to play on a college team, Tetsuji had sent his entire team into the most basic, bare-bones BA degree program the school offered, self-interests be damned.

Jean had given up the idea of having any kind of typical university experience, but his friends seemed to have other ideas. Jeremy and the girls seemed pretty adamant he enjoy himself, both in school and out of it. So that was how he found himself filling the two elective slots in his schedule with courses that had nothing to do with his major. The first was the art history course he had on Mondays, and the second was a French literal class he had scheduled for later in the week. (The latter of which he'd picked half to reconnect to his native language and half purely to spite Riko.)

After classes, Jean had his first session with Jess in over a month. He was a bit nervous; sometimes his appointments left him wanting to hide from the world and he was worried that after not seeing her for so long that would be the case again today. But, he was pleasantly surprised when the session was a low key one. Jess mainly just wanted to check in and talk about winter break. When he told her he hadn’t played Exy at all over the break she called it progress, and Jean knew she was probably right. He never would've managed to stay off a court for so long by choice even a few months ago. The last time he'd spent so long away from the game was after Riko had beaten him half to death and he'd spent those months recovering in Abby Winfield's home in Palmetto. When he thought about break his mind went right to Jeremy, but Jean didn't mention that new development to Jess. 

When Jean was finished with his counseling session, Jeremy was outside with his car to pick Jean up and head over to the stadium for practice. To spite all the talk of progress and breaks from Exy, Jean was still antsy as all hell to get back on the Trojan court. He still needed this sport to survive, after all. He figured it was inevitable, but he was still a bit annoyed when Rhemann called the team together for a meeting in the team room before they could get to practice.

"So," Rhemann began, once everyone had arrived and found a place to sit, clapping his hands together, "let's talk championships."

Jean was crammed onto one of the couches with Jeremy, Laila, and Alvarez. He was on the very end, and if he had to sit pressed against Jeremy’s side just so all four of them could fit, well, that wasn’t really a problem for him.

Rhemann looked around at the team before he went on. “We’re in the odds bracket, again, which means we’ve got games on Thursdays.” This was news to absolutely no one, but Rhemann still paused before going on to make sure everyone heard him. He gestured to the assistant coach, and the man handed Rhemann a stack of papers. “I’ve got our schedule here, and our first game is next week,” he announced, holding up the papers.

Everyone seemed to perk up at that. "Do we get to play anyone fun?" Drew asked.

Rhemann gave Drew a look. "Depends on your definition of _fun_ ," he said, scowling briefly.

"There's really only one definition of fun," Riley pitched in.

Rhemann turned his faint scowl on Riley. "I'd categorize our schedule more as interesting."

That was apparently all the prompting Jeremy needed. He jumped up from the couch and made a grab for the schedule. Rhemann tried to keep his stack of papers out of Jeremy's hands, but Jeremy was quicker and managed to snag at least one paper from the stack in Rhemann's hand and get a good look at it. "Wait," he said, looking up at Rhemann with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "Wait, is this for real?"

Rhemann nodded and sighed. “I know, it’s never happened before, but it is what is.”

"Dude," Alvarez said from the other end of the couch. "Explain, please!"

 Jean thought he knew what was coming next, but he still wasn’t prepared for it. Of course, he'd known it was a possibility. He knew he would eventually have to face them again. Even without Riko and Tetsuji, the Ravens would still be one of the best teams in the nation, and if the Trojans wanted to win championships, they’d eventually have to play Jean’s former team. But that still didn’t make it any easier to deal with and it didn’t mean Jean was ready to see them again. Jeremy frowned and passed the stolen papers back to his coach. 

"Okay," Rhemann said, cutting through the few voices which had sprang to life in the last few seconds. “We’ve got a home game against NYU next week,” he said. “but for our second match, we’re away against Edgar Allen.”

"Wait, what?" Laila said, her gaze snapping from Jean to Jeremy to Rhemann.

Ellie blanched and made a shrill noise, smacking Tanya, who was sitting next to her, in the arm.

Sarah furrowed her eyebrows and made a face. “But we _never_ play them before _semis_!”

Jason groaned. “If we had to play someone from southeast, couldn’t we at least play the Foxes again?”

With the team focused on Rhemann, Jeremy finally slipped back onto the couch and silently took one of Jean’s hands between both of his, bringing their joined hands to rest in his lap. No one else seemed to catch onto the fact that all the color had faded from Jean’s face. A mere annoyance for most of his team was like a sucker punch for Jean. In just four short weeks he’d be on the same court as the Ravens again. Not only that, but he’d have to see them _at Evermore_. Yikes. Needless to say, he was really not looking forward to that.

"I know, I know," Rhemann said, cutting the team off again. "We've never done this before. We've never played another of the Big Three before death matches. We've never faced the Ravens before semifinals," he said, glancing around at his team. "But I don't want you all to dwell on this. Don’t think of this as another sure loss, think of it as a chance to knock them out of the game early on.They came in third in their district this year, they're not the same team they were under Coach Moriyama. They’ve been losing games even in their own district," he assured the Trojans.

Jean realized he was squeezing Jeremy’s hand with a white-knuckled grip, but Jeremy didn’t say anything about it. Maybe he knew Jean needed all the borrowed strength he could get right now.

"Okay, moving on," Rhemann continued. "We'll be home again for our third game, against Arizona State." He glanced over to where Campos was leaning against the wall with the offense coach and the assistant, and she handed over another stack of papers. "I've got stats for you guys on all three teams, and I'm working on getting you guys recordings of last seasons games, so check back in with me later this week if any of you feel like taking a look at what we’re up against." He held out the papers to the first Trojan who extended their hand and got the papers circulating. “Alright,” he finally said, “that’s all I’ve got, so if none of you anything else to add, let’s get moving and get to practice, yes? Good. Let’s go.”

The rest of the team started to get up and head for the changing rooms, and chatter started almost as soon as Rhemann finished his piece. Jean was slow to rise, his mind still occupied with flashes of black and the thought of setting foot in Castle Evermore again. He was relieved when Jeremy stayed with him, keeping their hands locked together to spite the fact that a few Trojans were sending them curious looks.

“Hey, Moreau,” Rhemann called before he and Jeremy could slip out to the changing rooms.

Jean stopped, and waited for the rest of the team to evacuate the team room before turning. "You can go on ahead," he said to Jeremy.

"It's okay," Jeremy said. "I'll stay with you."

Jean thought about that for a moment, but eventually he nodded and turned back to face Rhemann with Jeremy at his side, still clutching onto his hand. "Yes, Coach?" Jean said.

Rhemann raised an eyebrow at Jeremy, but moved passed it quick enough and turned his attention back to Jean. "Look," he began, creasing his brows together and crossing his arms. "I don't know exactly what happened when you were on Moriyama's lineup, but what I hear from Wymack wasn't exactly pretty." He paused for a beat, but didn't seem to be looking for any kind of response because he continued on after only a second. "So, the team's got your back, alright?"

Jean thought about that for a moment before he gave a stiff nod. "Thanks," he said numbly.

Rhemann considered him for a moment. “You gonna have a problem going back there?”

Jean had to remind himself that Rhemann was asking out of concern, and not searching for a weakness to exploit. "No. I—" He frowned, flexing the fingers on the hand that wasn't still connected with Jeremy's. "I can't let it be. They can't win against me like that," he ground out, half-angry, half-panicky. 

Rhemann took a moment, his brow only furrowing even further in obvious concern, but eventually he seemed to accept Jean's answer. “Alright,” he said, “if you say so.”

He turned away, heading down the hall to his office. Jean stayed put for a second, but eventually he made to turn and head for the changing room. "Hey," Jeremy said, stopping him before he made it further than a couple steps. Jean stopped, and turned so he and Jeremy were standing face to face. "You good to practice today?" Jeremy asked, brushing the thumb on his free hand across Jean’s cheek.

Jean nodded, shivering a bit at the feather-light touch. “Yes,” he said. “It will take my mind of things.”

Jeremy nodded. "Alright," he said, and turned so they could head to the changing rooms. He didn't let go of Jean's hand until they had to head to their own lockers to get changed.

Jean’s new team was almost enough to make him forget about his old one. Alvarez caught up with him when he was leaving the changing room and told him, “Don’t worry. If those Ravens try and pull any shit, I’ll beat ‘em up.” When Jean tried reasoning that she had her team's reputation on the line, she explained that there was still a decent amount of damage she could do and still only get a yellow card. It was enough to at least startle a chuckle out of Jean and make sure practice wasn’t a total disaster.

But still, with the knowledge that he was only four weeks away from entering the Nest again, Jean pushed himself to his limits at practice, and got reprimanded more than once for being a bit too rough. By the time practice finally let out, he was exhausted and a little sore and not in the best mood, but at least when he got back to the dorm Jeremy was a good enough distraction to get his mind off the Ravens and Castle Evermore for the night.

-

Jean did his best to push any thoughts about the Ravens away to be dealt with later, if only because he knew if he focused on them before he absolutely had to he’d send himself down a bad path that he wouldn’t be able to recover from.

The rest of the week was mostly uneventful. On Wednesday, he discovered Jeremy had signed up for a French class, which was a surprise. Jean had been serious when he offered to teach Jeremy back during Thanksgiving break, but it was just as well that he was learning from an actual class. Just sitting down to help him with his homework was difficult when every time Jeremy stumbled through a phrase with messy pronunciation Jean just wanted to kiss him, so he could only imagine how distracting actually teaching him would be. On Thursday, in one of the classes he shared with her, Jean asked Laila how she ever managed to get anything done when she shared a dorm with the person she was dating, and Laila laughed hard enough that their professor sent them a dirty look.

Overall, Jean was having a weird week.

As the first game of spring championships grew nearer and nearer, and energy level on the Trojan court went through the roof. Alvarez and Jeremy especially were more hyped up than Jean had ever seen them. That was to be expected, he supposed, as captain and vice captain they had to keep the team in line and prepare them for their first championship game. Jean remembered the way the Trojans were in interviews he’d watched from Abby’s couch during last years championships, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised to find out how hyped up they all were for this, especially since they had every intention of winning the whole thing this year.

_We_ , he had to remind himself. _We are winning the whole thing this year._

It was still a challenge lumping himself in with the Trojans like that. Even all these months in, he still felt like an outsider most of the time. After being a Raven for ten years, it was a challenge to think of himself as anything else. But he was trying, he really was. As hard as the process was, Jean wanted to be… _okay_.

On Friday, Jeremy was practically buzzing by the time he left practice. Jean almost mistook it for more excitement about championships, but by now Jean was getting pretty good at reading Jeremy. When they got in the car to leave the stadium, he was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and hi silence on the ride to the dorms said everything Jean needed to know. At this point in the year, it was already nearly completely dark outside by the time afternoon practices let out, but there was enough light for Jean to slant a look at Jeremy and note the slight crease between his brows.

When Jeremy pulled up in the parking lot out front of the dorms, Jean spoke up before he could get out. “Is it the game next week?” He asked, remembering what Jeremy had been like at the start of the season in August.

Jeremy looked over at him, his eyebrows rising up on his forehead. “What?”

Jean gestured vaguely with one of his hands. “Is that why you’re anxious? Are you worried about the game?”

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Instead, he huffed out a quiet laugh and shook his head. “How do you always do that?” He asked.

Jean arched one of his eyebrows. He noticed Jeremy’s deflection, and he wasn’t about to let the topic drop, but he could come back to it in a moment. “Do what?” He asked.

“You always _know_ ,” Jeremy said, tapping his fingers once more against the steering wheel before he stilled them. “You can always tell when something’s bothering me,” he clarified after a moment.

"It's not that hard to tell," Jean said simply. It was true; at any given moment, Jeremy was usually bubbly and happy and just all around a human ray of sunshine. So, it wasn't difficult to notice the quiet, jittery sort of energy that overtook him when he had his bad days. Even back in the early days, back before Jean had even really thought of Jeremy as a friend, it was impossible not to notice. “Now, answer my question,” he said. “Are you worried about Thursday?”

Jeremy smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “No,” he said, “no, that’s not it this time. I’m actually pretty excited for the game. I don't think we've played NYU before.”

"Okay, so what is it?" 

"It's..." Jeremy sighed heavily, looking down at his lap and frowning. "It's, okay, it's probably dumb, so try not to judge too harshly, but..." He shrugged. "I mean, okay, I don't want to be, like, presumptuous, or pushy, or anything, but I want to, like, do this _right_ , and…" He shook his head, laughing nervously.

"Wait," Jean blinked, shaking his head. "You... This is about—" He cut himself off, looking away from Jeremy. “I don’t want to make you nervous,” he managed, his own voice coming out a lot quieter than he’d meant. He kind of felt like his stomach was bottoming out. “Do I really make you that way?”

“Oh, hey, no,” Jeremy was quick to say, finally turning to look at Jean and squeezing his shoulder. “No, it’s not that. It’s not you, it’s—" He bit his bottom lip, chewing on it for a moment while he searched for the right words. "I've been dumped more than once for being... Too clingy, and, like, needy, and such. I just... I always get too involved way too fast, and I don't want to mess things up," he admitted in a jumbled rush of words.

Jean knitted his eyebrows together and frowned deeply at the darkened dorm building outside the car. His initial thought of, _who the fuck in their right mind would ever leave Jeremy Knox?_ was quickly followed by a thought that, really, it was lucky they had, or else where the fuck would he be? Which made him feel _incredibly_ guilty, and— He gave his head a small yet emphatic jerk and finally turned to face Jeremy. His words died before they reached his mouth, so instead of talking he grabbed Jeremy's face gently and leaned across the center console of the car to give him a short but fierce kiss. He pulled away, but didn't get far. "They're fucking idiots," he mumbled, still only a couple inches from Jeremy. As he leaned back full to sit back in his own seat, Jeremy reached out and grabbed Jean's hands in both of his. “I’m not going to ‘dump you’ for being _you_ , that’s kind of the reason I like you in the first place,” Jean told him. He knew he sounded angrier than he probably should, and he hoped Jeremy knew it wasn’t directed at him.

Jeremy must have picked up on that, because the look on his face was… Well, it was way too much for Jean, and he had to look away and collect himself for a second.

"Look," Jean continued. God, he was so out of his fucking depth here. He was 21 years old, could speak English, French, and Japanese fluently, was the best backliner in college Exy, but when it came to stuff like this, to relationship-y, emotional... things, he was completely inept. He had absolutely no clue how to put his feelings into words. He sighed. “I don’t want to make you anxious, and I don’t want you to feel like— Like you have to… tone yourself down so you don’t scare me off. I—" He let out a quiet sort of growl, annoyed at both his deficiencies in this area and at the way his heart raced, afraid even now of… Rejection, he supposed. He held tighter to Jeremy's hands. “If anything, I should be the one afraid of losing you. I just want— I just want this,” he finally managed to spit out.

“I don’t want you to be scared of that either,” Jeremy said, practically a whisper.

Jean sighed, but he met Jeremy’s gaze and held it. “It’s hard not to be,” he tried to explain. “Nothing good ever lasts for me.” Jean didn’t know how the conversation had even taken such a serious turn. It definitely hadn’t been his intention when he first brought up the topic, but now he couldn’t really stop. Obviously there were enough insecurities between the two of them that this was something they’d need to talk about. “I don’t… I don’t quite understand why someone like you would even be interested in some broken former Raven.”  


Jeremy made a sort of distressed sound in the back of his throat. "Are you serious?" He asked. "Do you honestly not realize how incredible you are?” When Jean just stared at him blankly, Jeremy sighed. “I mean, okay,” he began, shifting in the driver seat so he was turned completely sideways and facing Jean. "I keep thinking about it, and... I don't think I would've even survived what you went through in the Nest, and you said that you haven't even told me the worst of it. But, you didn't just survive, you made it out the other side as just a genuinely good person. You're just... you're strong as hell." He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, and also, you’re fucking gorgeous and you’ve only ever been kind and compassionate and generous with me, so, why the fuck wouldn’t I be interested in you?” He finished off.  


“But…” Jean paused, trying to decide what he wanted to say. He could argue that it wasn’t some sort of internal strength or inert goodness that got him to where he was now. He was only even still alive thanks to luck and a will to survive and an excessive amount of spite. He could also argue that there were days when it hadn't even seemed worth it, and the scars on his wrist were proof enough that if he’d had his way on those days he wouldn’t be here right now. There were a lot of arguments he could make, but it was hard to argue with Jeremy Knox sometimes. He sounded so damned earnest, Jean wanted to believe him. He just sighed. “Okay, fine,” he finally said. “Now that that’s out of the way, can we just both agree neither one of us is going to drive the other off and stop being so fucking scared?” In all honesty, Jean didn't think he'd ever really stop being scared, but... He wanted to. He really just wanted to move forward with his life.

Jeremy gave him one of those soft smiles that made Jean's heart race and nodded. “I’d really like that,” he agreed.

“Good,” Jean said. Fed up with the very idea of this conversation, he dragged Jeremy in for another kiss. Jeremy pulled Jean as close as their awkward positioning in the car would allow, the kiss a little needy and a little desperate on both ends after... All of that.  


They only broke away from each other when a loud thud on the windshield startled them apart. Jean had been too busy with Jeremy to notice Alvarez's powder blue Jeep pulling up in the spot next to Jeremy's car, but it was there when he looked up. Laila was also there, standing outside of the car with an eyebrow raised. He assumed the thud had been her pounding on the glass. “Honestly,” she said, shouting a little in order to be heard from outside the car. “Your room is, like, twenty feet away, and you chose to suck face in the parking lot?” She shook her head, but by then Alvarez came around the Jeep to join her, so she turned and followed her girlfriend towards the dorms.

Jeremy opened the his door and pulled himself up, resting on the door frame so he could call after them. “You’re such a hypocrite, Dermott!" He yelled, "do you remember how many times we caught you and Alvarez making out in the middle of the fucking locker room when you first started dating?”  


The only response he got was a loud round of laughter from Alvarez and a vaguely dismissive hand gesture tossed at him over Laila's shoulder. Jeremy shook his head, but didn’t pursue the topic any further. “Actually, though,” he said, turning back to Jean, “we should go inside. I don’t really want to sit in the car all night.”

Jean agreed, so he climbed out of the car and headed around the hood. As soon as Jeremy finished locking up the car, Jean took his hand and they walked towards the dorms with their fingers laced together.

“So,” Jeremy said, as he swiped his key fob in front of the sensor and pulled open the large glass doors. “Before things got, er, kind of derailed, I was actually going to ask you something,” he said, fitting himself against Jean’s side while they waited for the elevator.  


Jean nodded, looking down at Jeremy. "What's that?"

"Well, okay," Jeremy shrugged. "It occurred to me that we've never actually, y'know, gone out, like, one an actual date or anything," he said, blushing faintly. To spite Jean’s assurances, he still sounded nervous as hell.

Jean gave his hand a little squeeze, humming and nodding. “What would we do?” He asked. He’d never done the whole relationship thing, and the idea was a little daunting, but he trusted Jeremy and wanted to make him happy. The elevator dinged, and a few students Jean didn’t recognize piled out and passed them before the pair of them made their way in, and Jean pressed the button for the sixth floor.  


Jeremy shrugged, stepping up to lean into Jean’s side again once they were in the elevator. “I dunno,” he said. “I figured I’d ask before I started planning anything.”  


Jean nodded again, watching the elevator climb up to the top floor. He thought of all the cliché date ideas and made a face. "No movie theaters," he said, the idea of sitting in the dark for several hours enduring some obnoxiously loud movie one he couldn't quite stomach.

“Okay, fair enough,” Jeremy said. “But that’s a yes? You want to?”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing the sixth floor hallway. "Yes," Jean said, as he and Jeremy walked down to their dorm at the end of the hall. Jeremy still had his keys out so he got the door unlocked and let them in.

"Awesome," Jeremy said, beaming at Jean.

Jean set his bag down beside the couch and went to sit down. He was ready to just relax after a week that felt long as hell. Jeremy sat down beside him, curling one of his legs up under him and leaning against Jean. “It’ll be great," Jeremy assured him. "I promise, I’ll plan something you’ll love.”

“So you’re going to plan the whole thing?” Jean asked.

“Yeah,” Jeremy told him, absent tracing one of his fingers over the back of Jean's hand. Jean thought back to their conversation in the car and couldn't understand why anyone would leave Jeremy for 'clinginess' or whatever. Jean had never, in all his 21 years of life, experienced this kind of affection. Even before the Ravens, his parents were at best indifferent to his existence. But Jeremy cared about him and wanted him to know it. And maybe they were going 'too fast,' but it wasn't like Jean had any past experiences to compare it to, and they were both happy so what the fuck did it matter? “Fair warning," Jeremy continued, "since you said I won’t scare you off, you’re gonna learn pretty quick that I’m sappy as hell.”

“What, are you going to start calling me ‘darling’ and ‘baby’ all the time now?” Jean said teasingly, thinking of Laila and Alvarez, and how they never really seemed to use each other's real names in favor of pet names and endearments.

Jeremy shrugged. “I mean, I might,” he said, and sounded dead serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not 100% happy w/ how this chapter turned out, but i already rewrote it like 4 times so this is like. the best it's gonna get i think. i hope u enjoyed it anyway
> 
> also feel free 2 come yell at me abt these boys or just tfc in general or really anything over on tumblr, on my main blog [danwildsofficial](http://danwildsofficial.tumblr.com/) or my tfc blog [gayladermott](http://gayladermott.tumblr.com/)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u guys r so nice to me & i want u to know all the comments + kudos literally make my entire day. i said it before but u r all Real mvps 2 me & ilu all :')
> 
> it turns out im Very Bad at being mean to jean and it was very hard not to just turn the rest of this fic into pure fluff.

Jean remembered the NYU Bobcats from his time playing with the Ravens before they’d gone south to fuck with Kevin and the Foxes. They were an unimpressive team and had never managed to make it to championships while the Ravens were in their district, but somehow they’d secured the number one spot this year. Jean was interested to know how, but not interested enough to give up any of his free time to watch recordings of their games.

That was new, the whole wanting to spend his free time on things other than Exy, but it had been happening more and more lately.

He was almost jealous of how genuinely _excited_ his team was for their first championship game of the year. He almost wished he could have as much fun on the court as them, and wondered if he’d ever get there. He wanted to, and he was trying, he really was, but… Exy was still mostly survival for him, and he didn’t know if he’d ever manage to separate the sport from Riko. He’d loved it as a child, he knew that, but he’d only been 11 when he was handed over to the Moriyamas, and having to play with broken bones and bloody stitches had sort of tainted the experience for him.

But right now, with first serve drawing nearer and nearer, it didn’t do Jean or his team any good to think about Riko, so he stashed those thoughts away as quickly as he possibly could. Whether he was having fun or not, the Trojans still had a game to win tonight and Jean would never be able to help with that if he was lost in thoughts of the Nest.

Even though the game was still an hour away from starting, the team had already gathered in the locker room. Jeremy was talking to the offense coach and the other starting striker, Ryan, and Laila and Alvarez were spending a rare moment apart. Alvarez was perched on the arm of a couch and chatting animatedly with Sarah, and Laila wasn't in the room at the moment. The start of the game was still far enough out that Jean was sitting in one of the beanbags in the team room, mostly just watching his teammates and taking a few moments to relax.

His phone beeping from his sweatshirt pocket startled him, and he pulled it out to check the message. The text was from Renee - unsurprisingly. Outside of the Trojans, she was really the only person he talked to.

“ _Good luck tonight!! Were all rooting for you guys!! :-)_ ” It read.

Jean wondered for a moment who ‘all’ she was referring to, but figured it must be the Foxes. It was odd being on a team Kevin was a die-hard fan of. He made a mental note to try and catch the Foxes game tomorrow. He pressed the button to reply, but before he could Jeremy flopped down on the beanbag next to him. The beanbag was pretty small and generally not meant to sit more than one person, but Jeremy made it work by practically draping himself over Jean. “So,” he said, “I have a question.”

Jean dropped his phone back into his lap and turned to look at Jeremy. “What’s that?”

Jeremy picked up the hand that wasn’t still clutching his phone and laced their fingers together. Jean didn’t think he’d ever get used to how naturally that casual affection came to Jeremy. (Not that he was complaining or anything.) “Do you have plans next Friday?”

Jean wanted to point out that really the only person he would have plans with would be Jeremy himself. (Or maybe Laila and Alvarez, but when they wanted to spend time with Jean they tended to just show up and drag him off somewhere.) Instead he just shook his head. “No.”

“Perfect,” Jeremy said, grinning, “you do now.”

“Okay?” Jean arched one of his eyebrows. “Do I get to know what these plans are?”

“Not yet,” Jeremy said. “It's a surprise, okay?”

In general, surprises had never gone well for Jean over the years, but he trusted Jeremy. After a minute, he nodded. “Okay.”

That was all it took to bring another brilliant smile to Jeremy’s face. Jean was a little envious of how easy it was to make Jeremy happy, but that was mostly overshadowed by how good it felt to be the _reason_ for that happiness. Jean did his best to return the smile, but he still wasn’t entirely used to having that expression on his face.

It was more than a little frightening how important Jean had let Jeremy become in his life. No matter how much he wanted to believe otherwise, no matter what Jeremy said and how much Jean wanted to believe him, everything that had happened to him had lead him to the inevitable truth that nothing good ever lasted for Jean Moreau. Actually, typically nothing good ever even _happened_ for Jean, so it was hard to believe it would last. He didn’t know how to hold onto good things.

But he couldn’t let himself dwell on that right now. If he had his way he’d never dwell on it again, but at least for tonight he had to stop being so damn introspective and angsty. He had a game to win. He also had a gorgeous boy sitting pressed flush up against him, so really he wasn’t sure how he was even able to think such negative thoughts at the moment.

Jean was aware he was in a room full of most of the Trojans and their coaches, but he also figured they wouldn’t care much, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to Jeremy’s, lightly and only for a second, but enough to take his mind off things.

Jeremy’s smile only widened at that. Jean would’ve been happy to just stay like that for a while, but, again, he had to remind himself that they had a game to play in an hour. He’d never been so distracted on a game night before. He stood up, and turned to offer Jeremy a hand up. “Come on,” he said, “we have to get ready to beat the Bobcats.”

Jeremy let Jean pull him to his his feet, but it took him a minute before he dropped Jean’s hand. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he just nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, still smiling softly.

 

They did beat the Bobcats, by a three point margin, and that was with the starting line playing the entire first half and a good portion of second. They didn’t need to play like that; NYU had 20 players on their team, but the Trojans were still obsessed with playing full games. Even though the Foxes had 15 people on their line up now, they’d somehow lodged the full-game idea in the Trojans' heads last year. Jean had given up trying to convince them they were being idiots; they were stubborn and determined as hell and they would see the season through this way.

But they were also winning games, so Jean supposed he didn’t have a right to complain.

 

-

 

The thing with recovery was it really didn’t make sense. Jess kept telling him over and over in Jean’s counseling sessions that it was completely normal to feel like he was making major progress one day, and be back to square one the next. Jean knew this, logically, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with those bad days where it felt like Renee had just stolen him from the Nest yesterday. Of course, his bad days were fewer and farther between this far out from the Nest, and they were typically a lot less extreme than they had been, but there were still days where he could hardly manage the stairwells on campus or when he felt too numb to even speak to anyone.

Most of the time, when he got like that, he didn’t miss much. Sometimes Jeremy convinced him to sit out of practice if he was having a particularly rough patch, but on game days and such he was usually able to fight through it.

But the problem was, today was a day probably more important than a game, and Jean could barely get himself to leave the dorm room in the morning. To be fair to himself, that was half due to exhaustion. Some nights were dreamless and peaceful, but more often than not Riko and the Nest made unwelcome reappearances in the form of nightmares. He was used to it by now, and he knew how to deal with them, had been dealing with them since he was barely 12, but sometimes they were bad enough that he couldn’t get back to sleep. Unfortunately, last night had been one of those nights. Even with the string of lights on the ceiling, and the blinds open, and Jeremy holding onto him and running a hand gently through his hair, it took him hours to finally fall asleep again.

By some miracle, he managed to make it through his classes and the Trojans two daily practices, but that was about all he could handle.

Jean was the first done with his shower after practice. He finished as quick as possible to avoid any interaction with his teammates. He couldn’t handle being around anyone besides maybe Jeremy or the girls right now. He didn’t wait for Jeremy before he headed out to the parking lot, leaning on the hood of Jeremy’s car while to wait. It was almost dark, but he still tilted his head up to watch the evening sky. There was too much light pollution in the city to actually see the stars, but it was still a nice reminder of his freedom to be able to look up and see the deep navies and lingering reds that still remained from the sunset.

It was one of those rare cold nights. Well, cold for LA, at least. It was probably only about 65 degrees out, but Jean had been living in Southern California long enough that even he felt a bit of a chill when the breeze hit him.

“Hey.” Jeremy's voice snapped him out of his reverie, and Jean looked over to where he was standing a few feet from the car, hands in his pockets. By now, he’d figured out that the days where Jean waited by the car were his Bad Days.

Jean nodded at him in response, and hopped off the car to go around to the passenger door. Jeremy followed his lead and walked around to the drivers side. He got the car unlocked, and Jean climbed in without a word. Jeremy didn’t speak, either, but he kept casting worried glances over at Jean as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove them back to the dorms.

Jean barely paid attention as he followed Jeremy up to the dorm. He had used up all the energy he had to exist today during practice, and now he just wanted to go upstairs and unwind. Once he made it up to the room he shared with Jeremy, he sat down on the floor by the window, leaning against the couch and scrubbing his hands over his face.

“Can I join you?”

Jean looked up, spotting Jeremy hovering near the door, his hands stuffed back in the pockets of his hoodie. Jean nodded, and Jeremy came to sit down. He hesitated, but in the end he left a foot or so of space between them. (He’d also learned, through a process of trial and error, that Jean didn’t like to be touched until he invited it on days like these.) He did, however, leave his hand on the floor between them, and invitation Jean could take at any point.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Jeremy asked again.

Jean thought about that, but eventually he just looked over at Jeremy. “You said I always notice, but you can always tell, also,” he finally said. “When something’s wrong, that is,” he clarified after a moment.

Jeremy smiled. “I’ve been told I pick up on that stuff,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch but keeping his gaze on Jean. “So,” he continued after a beat. “I’m guessing this means you’re not really up for tonight?”

“Tonight?” Jean said, at first, but it hit him not even a second later. “It’s Friday,” he said.

Jeremy nodded confirmation.

Jean’s head fell forward and he squeezed his hands into fists. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, “don’t worry about it.” He sounded too fucking earnest.

 _Too late_. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was wrecking Jeremy’s plans for them until now. “I hate this,” he growled. “He’s been dead for almost a year, and it feels like Riko is still ruining my life.”

“I’m… I’m really sorry you feel like that.” Jeremy said, and he genuinely did sound like the very notion was causing him a lot of pain.

“I’m…” Jean trailed off. There were a couple different directions he could take that sentence, and he couple pick one at the moment. “I’m sorry I ruined your surprise,” he finally finished, in an effort to release some of the tension he felt.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jeremy said.

“I hope those plans you had weren’t too elaborate,” Jean replied.

“Nope,” Jeremy assured him. “Honestly I just thought we could go to the beach and have a campfire. Make s’mores and watch the stars and junk.”

It made Jean feel a little better to know he hadn’t ruined some irreplaceable evening. The beach would still be there when Jean decided he was able to face the world again. He reached out and finally took Jeremy’s offered hand, lacing their fingers together. “Sometimes you… You’re too damned understanding. I don’t know how to… To be around someone so…” He trailed off and shook his head a little.

Jeremy pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything for a while. “What are you saying?” He finally asked.

“I’m saying…” He looked down at the carpet for a moment before looking up to meet Jeremy’s eyes, not entirely sure what he was trying to say, but marveling in the fact he was saying it at all. Even a few months ago the idea of laying himself bare like this would’ve been utterly unthinkable. But honestly a few months before that the _idea_ he’d even feel the way he did now would’ve been laughable. “Thank you for… putting up with me. You didn’t have to do so much for me, but since the first day I got here you’ve been going out of your way to make things… easier for me.” He squeezed Jeremy’s hand gently.

“Oh,” Jeremy said, a faint smile finding its way to his face, and then added, “I really like… putting up with you.”

Jean nodded. “Good,” was all he said. That was all he really had the energy to deal with for now, but luckily Jeremy wasn’t the type to pry or force Jean into anything, so he seemed fine to sit in silence for a while.

 

-

 

Jeremy wound up rescheduling for the next night, which Jean didn’t have a problem with. He woke up feeling fine (or as close to fine as he could get) on Saturday, so Jeremy drove him to a beach on the very edge of the city where they watched the sunset and stargazed as best they could the LA lights still muting out most of the sky. It was a lovely way to spend an evening, (Jean didn’t know he could have experiences he described as “lovely,” that seemed like a word that belonged to people who weren’t former property of reject gangsters) but then again every evening with Jeremy was a good one in Jean’s book.

When Jean woke up on Monday it really hit him that he would be back inside the walls of Castle Evermore in just four days. All throughout the day he found himself staring at his tattoo every time he went to the bathroom or passed by a window. At least until Jeremy noticed after practice, and at that point he started doodling over it in Sharpie again. At first Jeremy turned the ‘3’ into an ‘8,’ and explained that that had been his number before he was made captain. That earned Jean a few looks on Tuesday, but he responded to them with the iciest stares he could manage, so, wisely, no one said anything. Well, not no one. Laila and Alvarez had a comment or two, because Jean had stopped being able to intimidate them several months ago.

On Wednesday, Jean was kind of a wreck. He threw everything he had into practice, and skipped out on classes entirely. Well, not entirely. He honestly tried to go to class, but he barely made it through his first class of the day, so as soon as his professor dismissed the class he bailed out of the building and cut across campus. He’d meant to go back to the dorm, but he couldn’t quite make himself.

Instead, he found himself walking in the opposite direction, to the other end of campus, towards the court.

It didn’t really occur to him until he was actually standing in front of the stadium that last time he’d done this, he’d had Jeremy’s key chain, and that he actually didn’t have the keys to the court. But, it turned out not to matter, because when he got there, the door was unlocked. That almost gave Jean pause, but when he stepped into the hallway he heard Rhemann’s voice, and figured his coach must be inside getting some work done. The coaches offices were on the way to the court itself, and he had to pass by them if he wanted to get anything done here. Jean picked up his pace and walked briskly down the hall, passed Rhemann’s open office door. He’d thought he was in the clear - Rhemann was sitting at his desk talking on the phone with someone, but Jean had barely made it to the team room when Rhemann caught up with him.

“Hold up, Moreau,” he said, striding into the room and stopping to lean against the wall by the hall.

Jean stopped, half-way across the room, and turned to face him. "You should probably keep the stadium locked," he said. "Anyone could find their way in."

"I can see that," Rhemann said, raising his eyebrows at Jean. “Shouldn’t you be in class right about now?”

Jean thought about lying or just outright dismissing him, but neither option seemed smart. He shrugged. “Probably,” he said.

Rhemann sighed. “And you’re not because…?”

Again, Jean debated his options and settled on truthfulness. “Couldn’t focus,” he said in a flat tone.

“You know you have a GPA to maintain,” Rhemann reminded him.

“I have A’s and B’s in all my classes right now,” Jean told him.

The coach seemed to take a while to think on that. “Well,” he started, but seemed to abort the sentence mid way through. Eventually he came back with a stern, “better stay that way.”

“Missing one day isn’t going to ruin my grades,” Jean assured him. Something in the back of his mind warned him not to mouth off to his coach like that, but he was too on edge to care. Rhemann was nothing like Tetsuji, he wouldn’t raise a hand to his players for a couple rude remarks.

Rhemann narrowed his eyes a little, but all he did was give his head a little shake, looking more worried than exasperated when he looked back at Jean. “Do you want me to call someone? Jeremy? Laila?”

Jean shook his head. “No.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive,” Jean told him. “Can I play now?”

Rhemann looked ready to keep arguing, but eventually he relented. “If you must,” he told him. “If your professors ask, I never saw you.”

Jean just gave him a curt nod before he turned back towards the court. He’d promised Jeremy no more Raven drills, but if he’d be up against his former team again tomorrow, he wanted to be as sharp and on his game as possible. Belatedly he wondered if the Ravens even did half of their old drills with whoever their new coach was, but he supposed there were still enough Ravens who’d been around under Tetsuji for it to be useful for Jean to keep up with their strategies.

After he finished stretching and warming up, Jean pretty much lost track of time. He made it through all of the old Raven drills that used be muscle memory to him, and he wasn’t sure if it made him feel any better that he could still cycle through almost all of them flawlessly. In fact, by the end of it he felt more tense than when he’d arrived at the court.

It startled him more than he cared to admit when he heard someone knocking on the court door. He snapped himself out of his weird Raven-related trance and turned, catching the ball as it rebounded and lowering his racquet. He was a bit taken aback when he saw Laila standing outside the court by the home benches. He walked over to the court door and removed his helmet as he went to meet her.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“What are _you_ doing here?” She shot back.

Jean held up his racquet and helmet. “What does it look like?”

Laila rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, new question: Why are you here and not in class?”

Jean shook his head. If she couldn’t figure it out, that was her loss.

She sighed. “We’re gonna kick their asses tomorrow, you know that, right?”

Jean gave her a blank stare.

“No, for real,” she continued. “Alvarez and I have been watching some of their games. They aren’t playing anything like they have before. I mean, they _barely_ managed to come in third in their district. They’re sloppy as hell and almost as fractured as the Foxes.”

Jean’s eyebrows came together. He almost regretted not watching any of the Raven games Rhemann had burned onto discs for his team to peruse. “Really?”

Laila nodded. “Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. When they played against Breckenridge last fall the announcers kept saying how it was ‘the most violent game they’d ever seen’ and half the fights were _between_ the Ravens.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Jean said. “I don’t want them hurting you guys, I don’t want—" He didn’t want them to get any-fucking-where _near_ Jeremy. They were nasty players on a good day, and Jean knew first hand just how _brutal_ they could be. If the team dynamics were falling apart… Well, he could imagine how violent tomorrow’s game was going to be.

Laila shrugged dismissively. “We can handle the Ravens, Jean.”

Before Jean could respond, Laila’s phone went off in her pocket. She held out a finger to him and pulled it out, checking the caller ID before picking up. “Hey,” he said. “Yeah, I’m with him. At the stadium.” She paused and listened to whoever was on the other end. “M’kay,” she said after a few seconds. “Bye.” She hung up and stuffed her phone back in the pocket of her jeans.

“Who was that?” Jean asked.

“Jeremy,” Laila said. “He just wanted to check if I’d found you.”

Jean raised one of his eyebrows. “Found me?”

Laila snorted. “Yeah, dude. You’ve been M.I.A for, like, hours. We’ve been kinda worried about you.”

“ _Hours_?” Jean said incredulously. He knew he’d gotten kind of lost, but he didn’t think he’d been here for _that_ long.

Laila nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. It’s almost time for practice to start.”

Afternoon practice started at 3:30 PM, and Jean had arrived at the stadium after getting out of his morning class at 10:30 AM. That meant he’d been on the court for over four hours. He shared a class with Laila at 11:00, and that would’ve been when she figured out he was missing. When it became obvious Jean wasn’t going to say anything, Laila sighed. “Come on, dude. Get changed and let’s go.”

“I thought practice was starting soon?” He said in response.

Laila leveled him with her own icy glare. “Seems like you’ve had enough practice for today,” she told him. “You should get the fuck home and rest up before tomorrow.”

It was Jean’s turn to glare at Laila. “Don’t be ridiculous. I need to be prepared.”

Laila threw her hands up in exasperation. “Okay, if you won’t listen to reason, let me put it in ways your one-track mind can understand. You won’t be any good for the game tomorrow if you push yourself too hard. You’ve already practiced for a few extra hours today already, so get some rest and recharge so you have any energy left to play at all.”

As much as he wanted to argue, her reasoning actually did make sense. That, and he hadn’t realized until he’d stopped off the court, but his hands had a slight tremor in them and his arms were starting to ache. He scowled at Laila, but at this point she knew that was as good as agreement. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go shower.” He shoved his racquet into her hands. If he had to leave, she was going to clean up the court. She didn’t protest as she took his racquet from him, and she was securing it back on the stick rack when Jean disappeared into the locker room.

He took a longer shower than was strictly necessary, and avoided his reflection as he got dressed. Laila was out in the team room when he left the changing room, seated on one of the couches and texting someone. She glanced up and hoisted herself back up to her feet when she noticed Jean was back. She jerked her head as an indicator to follow her, and she and Jean left the stadium together. Laila waved at Rhemann as she passed his open office doorway.

Jean would’ve just walked back to the dorms, but as soon as they got outside Laila dropped down and took a seat on the curb. Jean looked down at her questioningly, and she seemed to understand what he was asking, because she shrugged. “I’m not walking all the way back across campus. Jeremy’s on his way.”

Jean looked out at the parking lot, but he eventually sat down beside Laila. “What did I miss in class today?” He asked, trying to distract himself.

Laila shrugged. “Nothing important. It was actually pretty boring. She wound up letting us out a little early, actually. You can copy my notes this weekend.”

He nodded. Nothing Jean would need to worry about. “Laila?” He said after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you can shut down the goal during your half tomorrow?” He asked, slanting a look over at his friend.

Laila smirked. “I was already planning it, dude,” she said.

Jean nodded. It wouldn’t be as satisfying than it would’ve if Riko was still on the line, but it would still be nice to see the rest of the bastards he'd played with crash and burn. “Good,” he said.

Laila scrubbed a hand through his damp hair, but after that they lapsed into silence until Jeremy pulled up a few spaces down from where they sat.

Jean looked up and watched Jeremy get out of the car to come meet him and Laila, stopping in front of them.

“I could’ve walked home,” Jean said, but he took the hand Jeremy offered him and let him haul him up to his feet.

“Too late for that now, right?” Jeremy said with an exaggerated shrug.

"I suppose so,” Jean said, offering his own weak shrug.

Jeremy half-turned to go, but he turned back to Laila a second later. “You want a ride?” He asked.

Laila shook her head, and leaned backwards on the sidewalk, holding herself up on her elbows. “Nah, I’m just gonna wait here for Alvarez and everyone else.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said, nodding. “See you later.”

Laila waved at them before Jeremy turned back to the car. Jean returned the wave before he turned to follow. He didn’t really realize how worn out he was until he sat down in the passenger seat. He let out a low sound halfway between a growl and a groan and sank down in the seat, rubbing his hand over his eyes. As soon as he let the hand fall back to his lap, Jeremy reached over and took it. Jean glanced over at him, but Jeremy seemed fine driving with one hand, so Jean slipped his fingers between Jeremy’s and took all the strength he could from the now-familiar gesture.

Jean wasn’t sure if it surprised him or not when Jeremy followed him out of the car at the dorms. “You should go, you’re going to be late for practice,” Jean told him as they walked up to the building.

Jeremy raised both his eyebrows in response. “Do you want me to go?”

Jean thought about that for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of waiting alone for practice to end versus having Jeremy there with him. Eventually he sighed and shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted. It was still weird doing that - asking for things. It was even weirded having people actually listen to him. He’d asked Riko for a lot of things, (or, more accurately asked him _not to do_ a lot of things) but that was only ever used as ammunition against him.

So it was a bit odd when Jeremy nodded. “Than I’ll stay with you,” he said, walking with Jean up to the dorm.

Once they made it into the dorm room itself, Jean realized he didn’t really know what to do with himself. Part of him was still antsy as hell and just wanted to go back to the court to work off all his nervous energy, but another part of him was just plain exhausted. When he was a Raven, a four-hour practice wasn’t unheard of. In fact, they were pretty common back in the Nest. But even though he still felt like a Raven more than he liked, his body had gotten used to life as a Trojan, to not pushing himself past his limits and to having a more balanced and healthy lifestyle. This lead to him standing in the middle of the living room, feeling lost and out of place.

Luckily he had Jeremy there with him. At this point he was beginning to wonder what he’d ever do without Jeremy, which was in itself a terrifying thought. He didn’t know how he’d let his life get so intertwined with Jeremy’s. It didn’t feel like the unhealthy codependency of the Ravens, _thankfully_ , but there was still something that made the thought of not having Jeremy in his life almost unbearable.

“Hey,” Jeremy said.

Jean blinked and returned to the real world, turning his attention to Jeremy.

“Come on,” Jeremy said after a minute, with a hand on Jean’s shoulder in order to turn him and lead him over to the couch. Jean didn’t protest and sat with Jeremy while he flicked on the TV to find something to watch, knowing a distraction would be best for Jean right now. In the end it didn’t really matter, because almost as soon as he took his seat, Jean discovered how exhausted he actually was, both physically and mentally. He didn’t even bother to hide it, instead he just wrapped an arm around Jeremy’s chest and turned sideways on the couch, resting his face in the crook of his neck and letting his eyes shut. The last thing he was aware of before he fell asleep was Jeremy bringing one of his arms up around Jean and rubbing small circles into his back.

 

-

 

Jean woke up feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Jean had always been grateful that he wasn’t a violent waker; he didn’t jerk upright or thrash around and shout in his sleep when he had a violent nightmare. Instead he just woke up feeling like every muscle in his body was frozen, including his heart and lungs. It took him a minute to remember where he was, which he thought was definitely a minute too long when he did remember. When he remembered how to move and how to breathe again, his fingers tightened convulsively in the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

At some point while he slept, he and Jeremy had shifted so they were laying out on the couch, Jeremy’s head resting on the arm and Jean with his arm still around Jeremy’s chest and his face resting in the crook of his neck. A look out the living room window made Jean’s pulse pick up. The lights were still on inside, but the TV was off and it was dark outside, which meant Jean had no idea how long he’d been asleep. The disorientation he felt did nothing to help the panic stirring in his chest.

Jeremy had evidently fallen asleep at some point, too, but he stirred when Jean did, and Jean quickly turned his gaze back to him. “What time is it?” He asked.

Jeremy blinked at him, but he patted his pockets until he found his cellphone. He pressed a button and took a moment to focus on the screen. “Six-oh-two,” he said, replacing his phone in the pocket he’d retrieved it from.

“AM or PM?”

“PM,” Jeremy said, sitting up himself.

Jean let out a deep, relieved breath. He still had 24 hours until he was back inside Castle Evermore.

“Are you alright?” Jeremy asked, scooting over so he was sitting beside Jean.

Jean shrugged, his fingers tightening around the edge of the couch until it was almost painful before he finally let go. He really wasn’t, but if he said that out loud he’d lose the last bit of control he had. “Just a bad dream,” he said, surprising even himself with how even his voice sounded.

“You’ve been having a lot of those lately,” Jeremy commented.

Jean nodded. There was no use denying it; the frequency of his nightmares had been going up the nearer he got to Evermore. "It shouldn’t… Effect me this much,” he gestured vaguely with one of his hands. “Having to go back there. It’s just a building.”

“Honestly, I think you’re holding up really well,” Jeremy said. “If I were you, I don’t think I’d be able to go back at all.” After a minute, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Jean’s neck, just above the collar of his shirt. Jean almost forgot how to breathe again, but this time it wasn’t so bad. “And we both know it’s _not_ just a building.”

Jean turned sideways on the couch so he could face Jeremy, and Jeremy did the same, crossing his legs in front of him and slipping both his hands around the back of Jean’s neck.

“At least Riko and Tetsuji won’t be there,” Jeremy offered.

Jean nodded. “I’m not too excited to see the rest of them, either,” he said. Some of the worst bits of Riko’s abuse hadn’t even been at his own hands; he’d had other Ravens to do some pretty vile things. And even though he knew there wasn’t much they could do during a game, he still didn’t like the idea of Jeremy, or _any_ of the Trojans, really, being under the same roof as them.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said. “Well…” He trailed off, looking pensive while he tried to decide what to say. “At least you’ll just be back there for one game. You never have to go back to the Nest and you get to leave the stadium after a couple hours. And we’ve got your back. The team, that is. We’re here for you.” He leaned a little closer. “ _I’m_ here for you,” he added, his voice softer than before.

“I know,” Jean replied, surprising himself when he meant it. “You always are.”

“Good,” Jeremy said. “Just making sure.”

It was weird how good Jeremy was at calming Jean down. He was still kind of a wreck, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold it together tomorrow, but he felt better after just a few minutes of talking with Jeremy.

“Hey, um,” Jeremy said after a minute, smiling nervously. “Do you realize it’s been, like, a month today?”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “A month of… what?”

Jeremy ducked his head, blushing faintly. “The first time you kissed me, it was a month ago today. That was on December thirtieth. It’s January thirtieth today,” he said.

“Oh,” Jean said, taken aback. “A month?”

Jeremy nodded. “Mhmm,” he hummed. “One whole month.”

Jean was honestly speechless. He’d managed to hold onto this, to Jeremy, for an entire month. Admittedly, he had no point of reference for these things, but he thought they were doing fairly well. A month was decent for someone who’d never had any kind of relationship before, right?

“One whole month,” he repeated back at Jeremy. “That’s good, right?”

Jeremy nodded, running his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Jean’s neck. “Yes,” he said, “yeah, that’s good. _This_ is good.”

Jean reached out and placed his hands on Jeremy’s waist, repositioning himself until he was only a few inches from Jeremy. “Should’ve kissed you sooner,” he mumbled. He almost didn’t want to say it, but Jeremy had a way of killing his apprehension.

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy said, smiling a little cheekily. “How much sooner?”

Jean had to think about that. If he was being honest with himself, he’d had feelings for Jeremy for… a while. Longer than he cared to admit, and he wouldn’t admit it, to anyone else, at least. “I wanted to for a while,” he admitted. “Since the start of the season, I think. Remember that night Laila and Alvarez threw that party?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy nodded. “And Toby brought that coffee vodka.” He grimaced at the memory.

Jean nodded in confirmation. “I was a bit drunk, so I can’t be sure, but… I think I would’ve, that night. I think I almost did before Renee called me.”

Jeremy let out a slow breath. “I wanted to that night, too,” he said after a minute. “But…” Jeremy bit his bottom lip. “Honestly, I think I wanted to for… a while before that,” he finally admitted.

“Really?” Jean asked, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, honestly,” Jeremy said with a shrug. “But, uh, I think the moment I first realized I liked you like that was… pretty early on.”

Jean’s pulse was picking up a bit again, but this time for a good reason. He leaned in even closer, so now his forehead was almost touching Jeremy’s. “When?” He asked.

“Okay,” Jeremy said, shrugging. “Do you remember, like, a couple weeks after you got here, we were on the court, and you got all up in my face and yelled at me about not playing as well as I could?”

Jean nodded. Of course he remembered that. Jeremy had been giving a half-assed performance because of Jean’s panic attack on the court a week earlier. It was the single most infuriating thing Jean had experienced in California. “You... realized you liked me when I… Yelled at you?”

“Well, no,” Jeremy said. “I mean, yes, but no. It’s, okay, it wasn’t really the yelling. It was just, the first few weeks you spent here you sort of looked like… I dunno, lifeless, I guess. Kinda liked a kicked puppy. But that day on the court, you got so into it, you… Came alive, and you were so fired up, it was… It was nice. And I, well,” he huffed out a laugh, “I sort of had this moment, where I just thought ‘oh shit, he’s hot.’”

Jean thought about that for a moment. He realized after a moment that a small smile had found its way onto his face. “And to think we wasted all that time,” he finally said.

“I’m just glad you kissed me at all,” Jeremy said. “I don’t think I ever would have made a move on you, not with… the Riko thing. I would’ve felt like I was pushing you into it.”

“Just the fact that you _said that_ proves that you are _nothing_ like Riko,” Jean told him. “Riko made me play with broken fingers, and he— Well, he didn’t give a damn about pushing me into anything, to put it lightly.”

He knew it was probably a mistake mentioning that, but it was still a bit of a disappointment when Jeremy pulled his hands away from Jean’s neck to grab his own hands and inspect them, like he could see where Riko had broken them. (To be fair, he probably could. Jean's fingers weren't that prettiest things on earth.) “He made you—"

“Yes,” Jean cut him off, not entirely sure he could handle a whole long conversation about this. He’d already had those with Jess, and his nerves were still on edge with anticipation for tomorrow. “He had me play with broken fingers and fresh stitches and broken ribs and countless other injuries. Yes, it was just as awful as it sounds. I told you you didn’t know the worst of it,” he bit out, sounding colder than he’d intended.

Jeremy seemed to understand it as the dismissal it was; Jean did _not_ want to talk about Riko this close to their game against the Ravens. He’d never be able to walk through the doors of Castle Evermore otherwise. After a long moment of silence, Jeremy sighed. “Remind me to tell Renee Walker she’s an angel,” he said.

“I have her phone number,” Jean said. “I could tell her for you,” he offered with a shrug.

“Yeah, do that,” Jeremy nodded, “but I’ll still tell her myself when we play the Foxes.”

Jean managed a quiet laugh at that. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” he said. Deciding he was tired of all this talking, he leaned in and brushed his lips against Jeremy’s. When Jeremy’s lips parted for his, Jean took it as silent permission to keep going and pulled Jeremy in closer with hands in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont actually know if january 30th was on a wednesday. i dont even know what year this is set in. i think its 2008. i know ive mentioned movies and things that didn't happen until like 2005-06 but. honestly. fuck a proper calendar/any sort of cohesive chronology. im sorry. its probably the one bit of this fic i just said 'fuck it' on.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot damn i never knew this would get so long. but now here we are almost 100k deep in this thing and theres still several months left until the year's over
> 
> Wowie
> 
> i had a lot of fun writing this chapter but im not entirely sure how it came out ?? i hope u enjoy it. it was rushed in some places and others took me like a day to write one sentence.

Jean wound up sleeping in Jeremy’s bed that night. He hadn’t really planned on it, but when it came time for bed, he found himself staring up at the ceiling until he decided he wasn’t going to get any actual sleeping done. He slipped off his own bed and crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of Jeremy’s mattress and nudging him. Jeremy, luckily, hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet either. He rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow, looking over at Jean. “What’s up?” He asked.

Jean pursed his lips. He was just so fucking tired of being so… weak? Broken? He made a vague sort of gesture with one of his hands. “Can I…?” He asked.

It took Jeremy a moment to figure out what he was asking. “Oh,” he said, and nodded. “Yeah, come on.” He lifted up his comforter and let Jean slide under with him.

Dorm beds were small as it was, but Jean made it work by pressing as closely against Jeremy as he could, and letting Jeremy wrap his arms tightly around him. Jean could honestly say he didn’t know where this newest impulse had come from; until now they’d avoided sharing a bed. The only times Jean had fallen asleep with Jeremy, it had been on a couch and only due to bone-deep exhaustion. Up until now he had liked to maintain his space while he slept, at least, but for now all he could focus on was how warm Jeremy was, both figuratively and literally at the moment.

Morning practice came too soon, but Jean felt… surprisingly okay about the day ahead of him. Well, no, not _okay_ , but… Very numb, which he supposed was better than utter panic, which was what he'd been expecting.

Jean barely registered practice, or classes, but he was pretty sure he attended both. The first thing he was really aware of was being pulled out of math class class at 10:00 AM to meet up with the team and head to the airport. The flight to West Virginia would take several hours, so in order to be there in time for the game they had a flight to Charleston scheduled for 10:50, which was still cutting it rather close.

All the Trojans and their coaches managed to fit onto one bus to get to the airport. By now the layout of LAX was almost familiar to Jean, although they were flying out of an unfamiliar gate today. It took forever to get everyone through security, but the flight wound up being delayed by 30 minutes, which meant that by the time the team made it to the terminal they had almost an hour to kill until boarding. Jean couldn’t decide if the extra time was a blessing or a curse; it was less time he’d have to spend in West Virginia, but he was already feeling restless when he found a seat and was buzzing with nervous energy after only a couple minutes.

He kept staring at his boarding pass, turning the piece of paper over and over in his hands and bouncing one of his legs.

“Scared of flying, Moreau?”

Jean turned to see Jason sitting beside him, grinning a little nervously. Normally Jean would’ve just dismissed and ignored him, but his nerves were still a little too raw. “It’s not the flight that’s worrying me. It’s the destination,” he said icily.

“Oh,” Jason said, his grin fading.

Jean didn’t have the energy to talk to Jason right now. He looked around, but Jeremy had gone off to buy some snacks for the flight, and Laila and Alvarez were sitting across from him listening to music on a shared pair of headphones and being almost obnoxiously couple-y, completely invading each other's space.

“Sorry,” Jason mumbled. “Uh, I’m scared of airplanes, is all, I just… Yeah.”

Jean raised an eyebrow and glanced back at his teammate. It was kind of amusing how much he still intimidated most of the Trojans. They should have figured out by now that anyone Jeremy Knox saw fit to date couldn’t actually be all that vicious. “Just sit back and enjoy the view,” Jean deadpanned. “Don’t think about the fact that you’re twenty-thousand feet in the air in a giant metal box.”

Jason gave him an odd look. “I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me right now,” he confessed.

Jean raised his eyebrows but gave Jason an otherwise blank look. At this point he had to admit he kind of was fucking with him, but it was either that or get lost in dire thoughts.

“Right. Yeah,” Jason said, drumming his fingers against the armrest of his seat and standing up. “I’m gonna go get some coffee.”

Jean watched him go and let slip a faint smirk. When he looked back up Alvarez was watching him. She snorted when she caught his eye and grinned, pulling the earbud out of her ear. “Is this how you cope? Scaring the shit out of your teammates?”

Jean shrugged at her. “Maybe. It’s his fault if he’s still scared of me after this long.”

“You are, like, a six-foot-two, Raven-trained backliner,” Alvarez pointed it. “That’s kind of intimidating.”

Jean snorted. “I’m also a twenty-one year old who’s scared of the dark,” he pointed out. “And I’m in a relationship with a human puppy dog.”

Alvarez’s expression was hard to decipher. Laila pulled out her own earbud, raising an eyebrow at Jean.

At that point, Jeremy returned and claimed Jason’s abandoned seat. “What’s going on?” He asked, looking between the girls and Jean, while pulling a sports drink out of the plastic bag he was carrying and unscrewing the lid.

“Apparently the rest of the team find me frightening,” Jean said. “I’m trying to understand why.”

“Huh, weird,” Jeremy said, transferring his drink to his other hand so he could slip his fingers between Jean’s. “If I figure it out, I’ll tell you.”

It was nice just being able to joke around like that, especially this close to the Ravens game, even if at this point Jean’s fledgling sense of humor was mostly self-deprecating. Jean would never stop being thankful for the three of them. Unfortunately, they were killing time so effectively that before he knew it, the flight was boarding. Jean had to split up with Jeremy when he got to the plane as they were seated several rows apart. Jean was seated beside the other starting striker, Ryan, instead, but Jean barely paid him any attention. Instead he just stared at the seat back in front of him and waited for the flight attendants to shut the hell up so take off could get underway. Take off had never seemed particularly arduous to him, but today it felt like it took hours before the place finally left the runway and got into the air.

Almost as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign went off, Jean was out of his seat. Ellie was seated next to Jeremy, and Jean got her attention by tapping her with two fingers on her shoulder. He used to use that gesture with the Ravens to get their attention, and he didn't like using it with Ellie.

Ellie looked up at him and raised both her eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Switch seats with me?" Jean asked.

Ellie nodded and undid her seatbelt. She squeezed out of her seat and grabbed her bag. “Where was your seat?” She asked on her way by.

“21C,” Jean told her. “By Ryan.”

She nodded and gave Jean a thumbs up as she headed down the aisle to take his vacated seat, while he slipped into hers beside Jeremy.

“Long time no see,” Jeremy said, grinning at Jean.

Someday he’d have to learn how to cope without Jeremy. He’d have to learn how to ground himself the way Jeremy was always able to ground him. Jeremy had told Jean that he had a tendency of getting too invested in relationships too fast, but Jean thought if anyone was falling head-fucking-first into this thing at an alarming speed, it was him. Maybe that meant they were made for each other, or maybe it meant they would crash and burn any day now. He couldn’t help but anticipate the latter, with his history.

He didn’t really realize he’d been clenching his hands until his nails bit into his palms with enough pressure to hurt.

Jeremy seemed to notice, too, because he slid his fingers around Jean’s wrist and brought his hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Jean’s gaze snapped up to meet Jeremy’s, but after a few seconds he relaxed his hands enough for Jeremy to smooth out his fingers. There were dark, half-moon marks on his palm, but he hadn’t drawn any blood. He made a not to trim his nails sometime soon so as not to repeat the situation.

Jeremy sighed. “They’ve hurt you enough, don’t you think? Don’t hurt _yourself_ because of them.”

Jean sighed, but he nodded. He laced his fingers between Jeremy’s and gave his hand a short squeeze.

“Hey,” Jeremy said. “I brought some school work along to work on. Do you think you can help me out with my French vocab?”

After a second, Jean nodded. “Sure, I can do that,” he said.

Jeremy grinned. “Great,” he said, using his free hand to pull his carry-on bag out from under his seat. He had to pull his other hand out of Jean’s to dig through it until he found his binder, but when he did he pulled up the armrest and scooted closer to Jean, so he was alright with that. It was a nice distraction, and Jean still thought Jeremy’s attempt at pronunciation were unfairly adorable.

 

-

 

“Has anyone ever told them all this black is, just, cheesy as _fuck_?” Alvarez asked, wrinkling her nose and spitefully dropping her bright gold away duffel down onto the all-black tiled floor.

“I did once,” Jean said, rubbing absent-mindedly at his cheek, tracing the memory of vicious bruises with the tips of his fingers. “I got hit for it.”

Growing up inside the walls of Castle Evermore, Jean had explored every nook of this place, which meant he'd been in the away locker room before. But that was somehow different than this. It was an entirely new experience stepping into the away locker room and actually _being_ a part of another team. He expected to feel some sick sense of coming home or familiarity, but instead he just felt out of place, which was oddly soothing and probably the only thing holding back full-body tremors that threatened to overcome him. Well, that and a deeply ingrained sense that returning to Edgar Allen had brought to the forefront of his mind to hide any weakness.

 _I'm not a Raven anymore_ , he repeated over and over in his head.

Jeremy caught Jean's hand and pulled it away from his face, standing up on his toes to plant a quick kiss to the spot on his cheek he’d been rubbing.

Yep, he was _definitely_ not a Raven.

“This isn’t even the worst of it,” Jean said, before one of his friends could comment. “You should see the Nest.” He shook his head, but then corrected himself. “Actually, no, you should _never_ see the Nest,” he said. Jean thought the Trojans chattiness was definitely infectious. “It’s _awful_. Tetsuji should never become an interior decorator.” He snorted, and then followed that up with a humorless laugh that he didn’t know where it came from but that he couldn’t stop from slipping out. He was standing just one story above the Nest and he couldn’t even bring himself to have a proper panic attack, instead he was all numb hysteria. (A _weird_ combination.) He wrapped one of his arms around his chest and tried to fight the ruthless Raven-like grin that he was wearing. “God, I fucking hate this place.” That last part he hadn't really meant to say out loud, but it slipped out anyway.

“Jean,” Jeremy got his attention with a light touch to the small of his back. “Jean, are you going to be okay?”

Jean went rigid for about half a second until he came back to himself, and then he relaxed into the touch. He took a deep breath, numbness was starting to creep back in now. “I don’t know how to answer that,” he sad truthfully.

Laila and Alvarez, as well as a couple other Trojans in the vicinity, were sending him concerned looks, but Jean ignored them. Jeremy was looking at him with an odd sort of expression on his face. “Come on,” he finally said. “Let’s go get changed.”

“Don’t get upset with me if I get red carded tonight,” Jean said, but he followed Jeremy into the away side's changing room anyway.

Jeremy frowned. “Please try not to,” he said.

Jean shrugged. “I’ll do my best, but I hate these bastards.”

“That’s all I ask,” Jeremy squeezed his bicep before he set his travel duffel down and started pulling his equipment out.

Jean did the same, and tired not to focus on how crushing all the black decor was. It helped seeing his teammates around him literally brightening the place up by donning their brightly colored red-on-gold away jerseys. At least the lights in the locker room were fluorescent and bright, instead of the dim red things that barely offered enough light to see by they used down in the Nest. It wasn’t as terrible as he’d expected, being back at Evermore, but it was still… not exactly fun.

This game couldn’t be over soon enough.

He was almost half-expecting to see Riko or Tetsuji around every corner, and even though he knew he’d see neither of them, it still set him on edge.

Jean pulled Jeremy to a stop as they were leaving the changing room. “Please be careful tonight,” he said.

Jeremy gave him one of those soft smiles that practically made him melt and nodded. “I will,” he assured him. “You too, alright?”

Jean leaned in and murmured, “Alright,” before giving Jeremy a quick kiss.

Not quick enough, apparently, because by the time he pulled away Coach Rhemann had appeared in the hallway. “Okay, honestly,” he said, “there’s a time and a place for everything, and right now it’s time for _Exy_.” He waved his hands at the two of them. “Go get ready for drills.”

“Sorry,” Jean mumbled, fairly certain his skin was well on its way to bright fucking red. Being back at Edgar Allen, he couldn’t help but appreciate the difference between his old coach and his new one. If Tetsuji had just caught Jean like that, he likely would’ve been beaten within an inch of his life. Instead Rhemann just rolled his eyes like an exasperated parent.

Jeremy just laughed and placed his hand on Jean’s shoulder to turn him towards the court.

Jean felt his heart stop and restart with a frantic rhythm as he stepped into the inner ring. Although there were a few spots of red and gold, the stands were filled primarily with fans dressed in solid black. God, he’d forgotten how insufferably serious the Ravens and their fans took their image. He latched onto the annoyance he felt at how ridiculous his old team was and used it to drown out the panic trying to take over. The Ravens weren’t actually that frightening, they were just image-obsessed and snotty. Sure, they could be dirty players, but Riko was dead and he had been the worst offender.

Jean sat on the away bench to wait for the rest of the Trojans and, inevitably, the Ravens, ignoring everything else going on around him. Once everyone was accounted for, Rhemann sent the Trojans on some laps, and the teams were called on court for drills not long after. Jean did his best to pretend the Ravens didn’t exist while everyone got warmed up, and he managed fairly well until everyone but the team captains were kicked off for the handshake and coin toss.

Jean folded his arms and went to stand by Laila and Alvarez, staring out at the court. It was strange seeing someone besides Riko wearing the number one captain’s jersey. The Ravens new captain was an 18-year-old freshman named Alex Yuen. That had been a condition the university and ERC agreed upon after the investigation into the Nest: the Ravens new coach would have to find new blood to lead the team. No one who’d been around under Tetsuji would be allowed to hold the captain's spot, for fear that they’d just perpetuate more of the same abuse and violence.

Jean almost felt sorry for the kid. The older Ravens couldn’t be making things easy on him. But at the same time, he knew what he’d signed up for: the investigation into the Nest and the Ravens had been made _very_ public, especially after Riko almost murdered Neil Josten with his racquet on live television.

Jean didn’t realize he was glaring out at the court until Coach Campos walked over and sent curious looks between him and the girls. “Why does my starting defense line look like they want to murder someone?” She asked skeptically.

Jean glanced over at her, but he looked back at the court in time to see the ref initiate the coin toss.

“Ah, Coach,” Alvarez said, holding her hand up to her chest and giving the defensive coach her best dramatic sigh. “We’re just, so, _not_ Ravens fans, y’know?”

Campos raised one of her eyebrows at them. “Really?” She asked. “Even you?” She waved her hand at Jean.

Laila snorted. “ _Especially_ him.”

Jean nodded to confirm Laila’s statement, but before Campos could say anything else Jeremy was back and it was time for the game to start.

 _Fuck_.

He felt numb all over as he took his spot on the first-fourth line in front of the away goal. But, he had Laila at his back, Alvarez at his side, and Jeremy out in front of him, so he took all the strength he could from that and threw himself into the game like his life depended on it. (Which, in a way, it did. All Exy games were life or death in a sense now thanks to Neil’s deal with Ichirou.)

Jeremy was marking Johnson, which Jean most definitely did _not_ like. Johnson had been his backliner partner when he was still on the lineup, and he was a particularly violent player, even by Raven standards. He probably had the most red cards of anyone on the current starting line. But he couldn’t focus on that, because he was marking Barretts, and she was almost as tiny and fast as Josten, so he had to focus all his energy on keeping her away from the goal.

Laila and Alvarez hadn’t been lying when they said the Ravens weren’t what they used to be. Jean still didn’t want to watch any of their games, but is was evident from the get go how much they'd slipped. Their old synchronicity was evident only in brief moments, in a pass here or a bit of footwork there, but mostly they were… _Fractured_. They were still talented. Jean couldn’t deny they were _good_ , but with no violent hierarchy and harsh beatings to whip them into a well-oiled machine, the Raven hive-mind was turning into a group of psychologically damaged individuals. It was chilling but also invigorating. Jean would feel bad for them; he knew _personally_ how hard it was to break free of all that conditioning. But all of their volatile anger was currently focused on the Trojans, so all he could feel was a cool sense of hatred.

No one scored within the first 20 minutes of the game. Laila guarded her goal with a vengeance and the Raven’s backliners did their job better than Jean would’ve liked and kept Jeremy and Ryan away from the goal. They were 26 minutes in when Williams, Alvarez’s striker mark, finally got around Laila and scored the first goal of the game.

Jean would've been disappointed, but he didn't really have time to, because in the next 3 minutes both Ryan and Jeremy managed to score a point apiece.

The first half ended with the score at 5-4, with the Trojans leading.

“I think I’ll just… take a nap now,” Alvarez said to Laila as they stepped off the court. “Wake me when we’re headed to the hotel.”

Laila laughed and bumped her shoulder into her girlfriends’ as they went to rest up during the break. Jean understood where she was coming from; even with the degradation of their synchrony, the Ravens were still one of the best teams out there, and the entire starting line was at various levels of exhaustion. Even though the Trojans were working towards full games, it had been decided they wouldn’t play like that tonight. The starting line had held up the court for the entire first half, but they wouldn’t be going back on the court again unless they were needed.

Jean stopped and waited for Jeremy outside of the court door. Jeremy stepped off a few seconds later, his arm slung around Ryan’s shoulders. He was grinning to spite who they were playing, and when he spotted Jean he slipped away from Ryan and went to meet him.

“Not so bad, right?” Jeremy asked, sounding hopeful, like he wanted it to be true and wouldn’t believe it until Jean confirmed it.

Jean shrugged. He’d been stick-checked by Barrets so many times his wrists were aching, he'd had more than a few insults and slurs spat at him throughout the night, watched Jeremy knocked into the plexiglass _far_ too many times for his liking, and seen Alvarez be thrown the ground hard enough to wipe the smile off her face. But, to be fair, it really _could_ have gone worse. “I suppose,” he said.

He let Jeremy hook an arm around his waist and take his racquet. He put both of their racquets back in the stick rack before he lead Jean over to the benches. They sat down next to each other on the bench, crammed fairly close together thanks to some of the subs still hanging around before heading in for break. Not that Jean was going to complain about that. Jeremy stripped off his gloves and helmet as soon as he sat down, dropping them unceremoniously at his feet. He leaned back against the wall and sighed, before turning to face Jean again. “You good?” He asked.

Jean removed his own helmet and gloves, although he tucked his gloves in his helmet and set them a little more gently on the ground before answering. “You’re right,” he said. “It was not as bad as it could have been.”

Jeremy nodded. “You were awesome, by the way,” he said, rolling his shoulder and wincing a little.

Jean didn’t let that wince go. “So were you,” he said, but he leaned over so he could prod at Jeremy's shoulder. There was too much padding in the way, so he slid his arm up under Jeremy's jersey to feel the shoulder under his armor “Are you hurt?”

Jeremy smiled, and Jean couldn’t feel any broken bones or anything, so he pulled his hand free after a moment. “Just sore,” Jeremy told him. “Probably gonna bruise like a bitch, but nothing serious.”

Jean accepted that with a nod, although he still felt his skin prickle. Only a Raven could intentionally hurt Captain Sunshine himself. Jean wanted to lean in and kiss him, but he refrained thanks to the fact that they were in the middle of a stadium with tens of thousands of people, including news crews, watching. Instead he just linked his pinky around Jeremy’s on the bench between them.

Jeremy turned back to look at the court, which had gone dark for half time. “We might actually win tonight, huh?”

“We will,” Jean found himself saying, surprised that he believed it.

Jeremy blinked and looked back at Jean, raising both his eyebrows. “You seem pretty confident about that.”

Jean nodded. “I am,” he said. He really, really was, too. He’d seen the Ravens play tonight, and he could already tell there was no way they could beat the Trojans the way they were playing.

Jeremy chewed on his bottom lip and considered Jean for a moment before he nodded and hopped to his feet. He collected his gloves and helmet and turned, offering Jean a hand up. Jean took it, grabbing his own equipment after he got to his feet.

They were some of the last of the team to make it into the locker room for break, so the hallway heading to the lounge was deserted when they stepped inside. Almost as soon as the door to the inner ring shut completely, Jeremy pulled Jean to a stop and grabbed a hold of the front of his jersey, pulling him down into a kiss intense enough to make Jean dizzy. Jean almost dropped his helmet, but he managed to hold onto it by the strap and used his other hand to cup Jeremy’s face.

Jean kind of forgot where they were, but to be fair when Jeremy kissed him like _that_ it was hard to even remember his own name. They only broke apart when the door to the court opened up again.

Kate and Tanya were the last of the Trojans to make it in for break, and they stopped when they spotted Jeremy and Jean.

Kate raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips in a (poor) attempt to hide a smirk. “I feel like there’s a joke to be made here about French kissing,” she said.

Jean felt like a deer in headlights. He still half-expected some nasty, possibly violent reaction every time he got caught with Jeremy like this. But all Jeremy did was laugh. “I’m dying to hear it,” he said.

Tanya tried to stifle a laugh, and when she failed she just hooked her arm through Kate's. “Come on, Katie,” she said.

“Oh well,” Kate shrugged. “I’ll let you know when I think of it,” she told them, before she finally let Tanya pull her away.

Jeremy watched them go, but Jean just stared up at the ceiling until they finally disappeared around the corner. Jeremy got his attention again by tugging gently on his jersey, and when Jean looked back down at him he leaned up to steal another kiss.

“What was all that for?” Jean asked, a little breathlessly, after they broke apart for the second time.

The light was dim in the hallway, but Jean could still see the smile making its way onto Jeremy’s flushed face. “Do I need a reason for wanting to kiss my extremely gorgeous boyfriend?”

“It’s just that I wouldn’t exactly peg Castle Evermore as a romantic location,” Jean said with a shrug.

Jeremy laughed softly, releasing Jean’s jersey and flattening his hand out so he could rest it against Jean's chest. “No, probably not,” he agreed. “But you have enough bad memories here, right? Now you have a good one.”

There was something to that, Jean thought, because even in the weak light of the hallway, in Jean’s least favorite place on the entire planet, all he could feel was warmth. Both the literal kind that came from playing Exy for 45 minutes straight, and that feeling that Jeremy always left in his chest. He pulled Jeremy closer, but he had a feeling that if he kissed him again right now he wouldn’t want to stop, so he just nodded. “Come on,” he said, using his free hand to grab Jeremy’s wrist. “Let’s go get some water before second half.”

Jeremy maneuvered his hand until he could thread his fingers through Jean’s, but he allowed Jean to lead him off towards the lounge.

It really struck him how completely, _utterly_ different his life was at this point than it had been at the same time just one year ago. Geographically, he was in the the exact same place, but every other aspect of his life had done a complete 180. The Trojans were scattered about the locker room, laughing and chatting and animatedly discussing strategy. They made a space which held nothing but horror for Jean come alive. They brightened up the literal darkest corner of Jean’s life. It was enough to physically stop him in his tracks, and it took Jeremy a moment to get him moving again. 

 

- 

 

When half time ended, the Trojans and Ravens met again on court with new lineups and a level of energy Jean hadn’t seen in a long time. Jean started the half on the bench, but he found himself unable to sit still and he stood up after not too long. He paced up and down as the ballwas passed between players and shot at the goal with varying degrees of success. As the minutes ticked down to the end of the game, Jean’s agitation only grew. He couldn’t sit still for longer than thirty seconds for the entire 45 minute half.

At 17 minutes in, a Raven striker scored a goal to tie the two teams up. At 18 minutes Sarah scored to put the Trojans in the lead, and after that the Ravens didn’t manage to pull ahead again. They tied up the score two more times, but when Elliot scored a goal for the Trojans at 32 minutes and put them in the lead, they stayed that way. By that point in the game, Jean had run his hands through his hair so many times he was surprised he wasn’t balding yet.

It didn’t help that Alvarez was getting louder as the minutes ticked by. Every time the ball so much as changed possession she had something to say (or, more accurately, _shout_ ) about it. Laila tried to calm her down at first, but she herself got so absorbed in the game after a while that she let Alvarez yell to her heart's content. She wasn’t the only one, either. Most of the sidelined Trojans were cheering their teammates on from their side of the plexiglass.

With five minutes left on the clock Jeremy finally decided to do something about Jean’s obvious anxiety. He grabbed Jean’s arm and pulled him back down to the bench, squeezing his bicep and rubbing his thumb in little circles over Jean’s skin. It was grounding, but Jean’s heart stayed in his throat until the final buzzer sounded.

Jean almost couldn’t take his eyes off the scoreboard when the game ended, where the score sat at 13-10. Not only had the Trojans won, but they’d won the game by _three points_. Jean figured he could forgive the Trojans stubborn determination and incomprehensible training decisions if it got them to the point where they could beat the Ravens by three fucking points.

They hadn’t won championships yet, but Jean would’ve thought they had from the team's reactions. Alvarez shrieked and leapt into Laila’s arms, which was an interesting thing to see because she was a good few inches taller than Laila and probably had 20 or 30 pounds on her. On the court, one of the Raven strikers had thrown his racquet onto the floor and stormed off the court entirely. It wasn’t their first loss of the season, but the Trojans and the Ravens had been pretty fierce rivals for years, so they weren’t taking it well. The goalie looked like he was arguing with his backliners, while, in contrast, on the other side of the court Toby and his backlines, Darek and Jake, looked like they were trying to crush each other to death with the ferocity of their embrace.

Jean took all that in in the span of about a second before Jeremy's grip on Jean’s arm became nearly crushing. He looked over at Jeremy, and found Jeremy looking back at him with the world's most blinding grin on his face. “We beat them,” he said. “Jean, _we beat the Ravens_.” He let go of Jean’s arm and leapt to his feet, and went to meet Alvarez. Alvarez hugged Jeremy and almost took him off his feet, and the both of them were laughing by the time they pulled apart. Jean was too transfixed by the look on Jeremy’s face to do much, but when Laila came over to him he turned his focus on her and let her drag him off the bench.

“Dude, get hyped,” she said. “We just won against those asshole Ravens for the first time _ever_. You, of all people, should be celebrating!”

Jean thought about that for a second. She was probably right; this was… Significant. They’d just beaten a team that up until last year had been deemed unbeatable. Jean had come back to the place where he’d been abused and tortured for years, and come out on top. Jean didn’t usually engage in the Trojans rowdy post-game celebrations, but it was hard not to get sucked up in it when they’d beaten the _Ravens_.

Jean figured this feeling wouldn’t last long, but if he had bad days he supposed he could have good days, too, so the least he could do was let himself feel alive tonight. It was almost like beating the Ravens had broken something inside him. Or maybe it had repaired something. He was already broken enough as it was, but this victory was almost healing in its own way.

“You’re right,” he agreed, nodding, letting a genuine, satisfied smile slide onto his face. “You were great tonight.”

“Wow,” Laila beamed at him, almost completely taken aback. She'd known Jean long enough to know how scathing he was in his Exy critiques, so a compliment on her playing from him was serious. “Honestly, so were you. I thought Barrets was gonna fucking deck you when she couldn't get around you. She was so pissed.”

Jean tried not to think about how many times he _had_ let his striker mark get around him. They’d won the game, and the Trojans wouldn’t care about a few slip ups. Logically, he knew that, so he did his best to shove aside the little part of his mind that still felt some semblance of inadequacy. “Barrets is always pissed,” he said. “But it didn’t help that you only let in two of her shots.”

Laila laughed. “Bitch was fast, or I wouldn’t’ve even let those in.”

Jean huffed, a little too soft to be a real laugh, but the sentiment there just the same. “If it makes you feel better, that’s the smallest number of goals she’s ever scored during a game.”

Laila flashed him a satisfied grin, but he didn’t really pay attention to what she said next, because he’d caught Jeremy’s eye over her shoulder. Jeremy was still going on and on about the victory to Alvarez and a few other Trojans, but he looked up and smiled brilliantly at Jean.

“You’re staring,” Laila told him.

“I am,” Jean agreed, not looking away until Jeremy finally returned his full attention to the others, and even then it was a struggle because he was still grinning that impossible grin of his.

“Fucking shameless,” Laila said.

“Weren't you just full-on making out with Alvarez thirty seconds ago?” He shot back at her, which only just made her snort and start laughing again.

As much as Jean actually enjoyed talking to Laila, he’d caught Jeremy’s eyes again and so he used her distraction opportunity to slip passed Elliot and Drew and over to Jeremy himself. There were still too many people around to kiss him or anything like that, but the Trojans were an affectionate team, so he put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and gave a brief squeeze, letting his hand rest on his shoulder for a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary. Jeremy looked up at him with that radiant, toothy grin of his, and Jean let the Trojans drag him into a bit of celebration.

The Ravens were surly as hell for the handshake for the most part. A few of the freshman tried telling the Trojans “good game,” and of course the Trojans returned the compliment, but Jean didn’t think anyone involved was too bothered that it was a rushed affair and both teams left the court as quickly as they could.

The Trojans field off the court, and just like that it was over. Jean had been dreading this for a while, but now it was behind him and he wouldn't have to see this team again until next year.

“Alright,” Rhemann said, clapping his hands together. “You know these yahoos are gonna want some interviews after that game. Who’s on press with me tonight?”

“Oh,” Alvarez’s hand shot into the air. “Me, us, we’ll do it,” she volunteered, roping her arm around Laila.

Rhemann accepted that with a nod and sent the rest of the team to the locker room with their three other coaches. Jean showered and changed, dressing in a pair of light grey jeans and the blue sweater Jeremy’s mother had made him for Christmas under his jacket. He went through the whole process as quickly as possible. It wasn’t like his speed would get him out of Evermore any faster, but he could at least pretend like it would. He was starting to get tired and the adrenaline from the win was fading, which was all adding up to a burning desire to get the hell out of this place.

When Jean was done he met up with Jeremy in the lounge, and he leaned against his side while he powered on his phone. Jeremy wrapped his arm around Jean’s waist and pulled him closer while Jean checked his messages. He had three new texts waiting for him as soon as his phone picked up signal again. Two were from Renee, one wishing him good luck time stamped for before the game began, and one from after telling him congratulations. He typed out a quick reply before heading back to his inbox. He’d seen the name there, but he could hardly believe it. The third text was from Kevin Day. He hadn't even realized Kevin still had his number. He didn’t really even know why he still had Kevin’s.

Kevin’s text was short and to the point. He never did have a way with words unless someone had a camera in his face.

“ _Congratulations on the win_ ” was all it said. Typical Kevin. They hadn’t even spoken a word to each other in almost a year and this is how he restarted communication. Jean wasn’t even surprised, at this point.

Jean was debating whether or not to reply at all when Laila and Alvarez returned to the locker room, with Rhemann on their heels. Laila was grinning broadly, and Alvarez had an arm slung across her shoulders, laughing as they walked. Rhemann looked tired, yet vaguely amused. “I'm not sure I like these two on press together anymore,” Rhemann announced.

Jeremy looked up at Rhemann, and then back at the girls, but it was Jean who spoke first.

“What did you do?” Jean asked, looking between Laila and Alvarez.

“Nothing,” Alvarez said, but she was still giggling.

Jean raised an eyebrow turned to Laila for clarification.

Laila’s grin was starting to look more like a smirk. “Well,” she began, shrugging. “There was this one reporter who asked about you,” she pointed at Jean.

“I mean, it was kind of inevitable, right?” Alvarez pitched in. “Being back here, of course they’re gonna be obsessed with the whole Ravens angle.”

Laila nodded. “So this one woman, she was asking about you, she was all ‘what’s it like facing the Ravens when you have a Raven on your line up?’”

“And so Lails was like,” Alvarez cut in, “‘Excuse me, we don’t have any Ravens on our line up. We’re the Trojans,’ yada yada yada, et cetera, et cetera.”

“But you know reporters,” Laila took over again. “They don’t let _any_ thing drop. This lady was persistent as hell, and she specifically asked about what it was like having _you_ on the team. And so of course I was like, uh, he’s a kick ass player and he helped us win our first game against Edgar Allen _ever_ tonight.”

“This is the part where I start to question whether or not I should let these two talk to reporters anymore,” Rhemann cut in, waving his finger between the girls, although he looked more amused than anything.

“Oh my god,” Alvarez said. “We didn’t even _do_ anything,” she protested.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Alright, cut to the chase,” he requested.

“Well,” Laila said. “She asked us why Jean left the Ravens, because sports fans just do _not_ know how to let shit _go_.”

Jean thought he knew what they were getting at. “What did you tell her?”

Alvarez was wearing the biggest grin on her face. “Remember that rant you went on at the fall banquet, about how the Ravens are essentially garbage and we’re clearly the vastly superior team and all that jazz? We basically told her that.”

“Don’t worry,” Laila said. “We paraphrased and cleaned it up for the news.”

“We didn’t call her an idiot or anything like you did with that guy at the banquet,” Alvarez clarified.

“You make it sound so tame,” Rhemann said. “They actually went on for a good five minutes.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Laila said to Jean, her tone more serious now, ignoring Rhemann.

Jean shrugged. “Maybe now they’ll finally move on,” he said, and meant it. It might not be the real reason he left the Ravens, but he really believed the Trojans were the better players, and he didn’t care who knew it at this point.

Alvarez snorted. “One can dream,” she said, and then jerked her head towards the changing rooms. “Alright, let’s go shower so we can get the fuck out of this terrible stadium,” she said to her girlfriend.

Laila nodded. “Good idea,” she said, and let Alvarez lead her to the women’s changing room. Rhemann watched them go and shook his head.

“It could have been worse,” Jean said. “At least they’re not as bad as Neil Josten.”

Rhemann turned to look at Jean and huffed. “Fair point, Moreau.”

 

-

 

Rhemann had booked the Trojans a night in a motel on the very edge of town for the night, which Jean was fine with. The farther away from Evermore, the better, in his opinion. Of course the first thing Jeremy did once they got to their room was turn the heat way up.

“What are you going to do if you go to play for a team in… Minnesota, or New York, or something?” Jean asked.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“The heat thing,” Jean explained. “You get cold when it drops below seventy degrees, how will you handle it if you sign with a team in a colder region?”

“Oh man, I could never live in the north,” Jeremy said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “I’ll just stay in SoCal.”

Jean thought about what that meant for a moment before answering. “What if LA’s team doesn’t want to sign you?”

Jeremy scoffed. “LA’s not the only team in California. There's Santa Barbara, Irvine, San Diego's got _two_  pro teams,” he listed them off on his fingers as he talked. “And I guess I could always go to Arizona if I have to, Phoenix has a good team, or maybe even Nevada or New Mexico.” He shrugged. “But not as far as Texas. I hate Texas.”

Jean nodded, and then he reached out the grabbed one of Jeremy's hands so he could use it to pull him closer. Jeremy came to stand in front of Jean, resting his hands on his waist and knotting his fingers into the fabric of Jean’s sweater, looking up at him.

Jean leaned down, but he stopped just an inch shy of Jeremy's lips. “You’d be so close,” he muttered.

Jeremy gave a slight nod. “Yeah. SoCal’s my home, I’ve lived here all my life. I don’t really want to leave yet.”

“I…” Jean cleared his throat. “I like the idea of… of you being so… so close to me,” he admitted.

“We won’t be as close as this year,” Jeremy said, leaning back further so he could meet Jean’s eyes.

Jean shrugged and waved him off. A year ago he hadn’t thought he’d live past his fifth year of college, much less that he’d have someone like Jeremy in his life. The fact that they were talking about… About some kind of future where they were still together, was… Well. Having a future at all wasn’t something Jean had ever anticipated, but having a future with Jeremy? That was something Jean didn’t know how to handle, but he knew he really wanted it.

“Jeremy,” Jean said, his voice more serious than it had been a moment ago.

“Yeah?” Jeremy responded.

Jean brought his fingers up to his own face, finding the spot on his cheekbone where he knew his ‘3’ was even though he couldn’t see it. “I want to take this godforsaken fucking number off of my face.”

Jeremy raised one of his eyebrows. “What, like, right now? Because, it’s almost midnight, and I don’t really think anything's going to be open.”

Jean shook his head. “No, not right now. Not _here_ , not in _this_  city. Not until we get back to LA.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said, pulling Jean close again. “That’s definitely doable. Um, what were you thinking of covering it with? Or do you just want to get it removed?”

“I don’t know,” Jean admitted. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. I just want it _gone_.”

Jeremy nodded. “That’s fair,” he said. “We’ll think of something.” He cupped Jean’s face and traced his cheekbone with his own fingers, covering the tattoo with his thumb. “Is it bad that I can’t say I’ll be sad to see it go?”

“No, that’s not bad,” Jean said emphatically. "I won't be, either."

And then, because just the idea of getting rid of his tattoo and moving on with his life, with Jeremy, had sort of tilted his world and made his heart pound in his throat, he bent down so he could kiss Jeremy until the rest of the world faded away.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hot damn. im p sure this chapters gonna put me over 100k so!!!! wow. i never intended for this to get so long, i never knew it would. i didnt know i could write so much ????
> 
> WOW
> 
> anyway uh. sorry for the wait between last chapter & this one. all i can say is The Depression™ kind of kept me from writing as much as i would've liked, and then it took me like nine years to just edit it. whoops
> 
> hopefully the next chap will be out sooner bc i already have Most of it written but honestly who knows. 
> 
> also unrelated but ive been looking thru this fic again and hot damn i missed a lot of typos in previous chapters. sorry about that. id go back and fix them but im way too lazy. ill try 2 catch more of them going forward.

February was, for the most part, an uneventful month. Jean didn’t really think about the tattoo thing again for the next couple of weeks, outside of making the decision that he didn’t want it removed, he wanted it covered. There was something about erasing it completely that didn’t feel like it would offer as much closure as having it covered up would. No matter what the public might think, the numbers weren’t markers of skill or some future “perfect Court.” Jean had figured out years ago what they really meant. They were a brand, a sign of ownership. They marked whoever wore them as _Riko’s things_ , and Jean didn’t want to feel like anyone owned him anymore. He didn’t _belong_ to anyone, and he wanted to prove that by covering the mark Riko had forced on him with a mark that meant something to him.

The only problem was Jean had… no idea what that might actually be. He had no clue what kind of mark would actually meananything at all to him. Ever since he was 11 years old, he’d had his entire identity, his very personhood, stripped down and beaten out of him. He’d been literal property to the Moriyamas, and his life had been Exy and nothing else for as far back as his memory stretched. A few months in California hadn’t been enough to rebuild an entire person from what Tetsuji and Riko had left behind of him. Sure, he’d rediscovered little bits of himself that he hadn’t even realized he still had, and, sure, he’d found some new pieces to add on, but that wasn't really enough and he still didn’t feel like much of anything.

Jean still hadn’t decided by the end of the month, so he went into all three games they had in the month of February still wearing Riko’s number on his face. But it didn't matter, because they won the last game of the first round, and their first death match by a decent-sized margin as well.

The first death match was a Thursday, which meant class in the morning, but it was a home game and the entire team was ramped up and beyond excited by the win, so Laila and Alvarez wound up throwing together another impromptu party in their dorm by pooling all the alcohol their teammates currently had stored in their rooms. Toby showed up with more flamboyantly flavored liquors, but this time Jean managed to convince Jeremy not to drink any. Practice was going to be absolute hell in the morning, Jean was positive of that, even as he resolved not to drink more than one class of wine.

Jeremy was hard to wake on a good day, but after passing out at two in the morning with six shots and two red Solo cups filled with god-knows-what in him it was near impossible to get him out of bed. Eventually Jean just left a glass of water by his bed and let him sleep, catching a ride to the stadium with Alvarez and Laila, who both seemed a little out of it themselves. Jean didn't see Jeremy again until afternoon practice, but he showed up for that somehow looking just as energetic and smiley as ever.

It was Friday, and after practice had ended Jean and Jeremy had ordered takeout for dinner and gone back to the dorm, where they spent the rest of the evening. If Jean were back in Evermore, he probably would’ve gotten a jump on Monday’s homework before heading out to night practice. But he wasn’t in Evermore, he was in a dorm room in Los Angeles with Jeremy Knox, and homework and Exy could fucking wait.

Jeremy was sitting on the couch, and Jean was laying sprawled out across his legs, propping his chin up in one of his hands and turning his phone over in the other hand. Jeremy was reading, holding his book in one hand and running the other softly through Jean’s hair. Jean didn’t want to admit how much he enjoyed it, how content he felt just then.

When he took notice of the date, Jean considered reaching out to Kevin. Jean hadn’t wanted to speak to him at all since the night Riko broke his hand and he ran from Evermore. But ever since that strange olive branch the night of the Ravens game he’d had fleeting impulses to say something to his old friend. At some point he knew he’d have to stop resenting Kevin.

Buuuut he wasn’t quite ready yet.

Jean considered the phone in his hand and broke the comfortable silence that had settled in the dorm. “You should text Kevin,” he said. “Tell him happy birthday.”

Jeremy glanced down at Jean. “Today's Kevin's birthday?” He asked. When Jean nodded, Jeremy made a face. “Huh,” he said, pausing briefly and setting his book down on the arm of the couch. “That’s kind of unfortunate.”

Jean dropped both his hands to the couch and turned to look up at Jeremy. That had the unintended and unfortunate side effect of dislodging Jeremy’s hand from his hair, but he repositioned and started up again in a second. “What?" Jean asked. "Why?” He raised one of his eyebrows.

“It’s February twenty-second,” Jeremy explained, trying to stifle a grin. “Two-two-two. That’s… Well.”

Jean pursed his lips. “I’ve known Kevin for over ten years and… I have never even thought about that before.”

Jeremy laughed, a soft and gentle sound. “I’ll text him,” he said. “You always could, too.”

Jean shrugged. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

Jeremy nodded. “That’s fair,” he said, pulling out his phone with his free hand so he could tap out a quick text. When he was done, he looked back down at Jean, curiosity written obviously on his face. Idly, Jean wondered if he'd ever learn to let himself display his emotions so openly. “When’s your birthday?” He asked.

Jean hadn't really expected that. No one had ever shown an interest in learning facts like that about Jean. “It’s in March,” he responded.

Jeremy gave him a rather dire look. “Please tell me it’s not the third,” he said.

Jean almost laughed. “No.” He shook his head. “No, fate is not that cruel. It’s on the twenty-first.”

Jeremy nodded. “Hey,” he said, after a moment, “that’s, like, right before mine.”

"Oh?" Jean raised his eyebrows at him. “When is yours?” He asked.

“April fifth,” Jeremy said dismissively. “So, do I get to, like, make a big deal for your birthday? Go all out? Bake a big-ass cake and throw a surprise party?”

Jean frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position, although his legs were still draped across Jeremy’s. “Please don’t.”

Jeremy smiled at him. “Okay,” he said.

“Really?” Jean asked, a bit skeptically. 

“Of course,” Jeremy responded. “I’m not gonna force you into anything or do something that might make you uncomfortable,” he said as he rested his hand on Jean’s knee. 

Jean nodded at that, because really he knew that by now, and then furrowed his brows. "Am I supposed to... Do something big for yours?" What did people even do for birthdays? He hadn't exactly had one since he was a child, and even then it was a quiet affair, since having mobsters for parents meant Jean wasn't ever really given the chance for much of a social life.

"Nah," Jeremy said. "I'd prefer if you didn't." Jean nodded at him, a little relieved, and Jeremy went on. "So, question for you," he said.

Jean raised his eyebrows as an indicator for him to ask.

“Do you have plans for spring break yet?”

“Who would I have plans with besides you?” Jean countered.

Jeremy shrugged. “I dunno. Renee, maybe?”

It was a fair point, especially since he'd spent Christmas with her. But they'd arranged that months in advance, and it had been a longer break. Plus that was... Before. “No,” Jean shook his head. “Renee is going on a trip with the Foxes. Says it’s tradition now.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said, smiling at Jean. “So you’re free to spend the week with me?”

Jean almost scoffed. “Of course,” he said, giving Jeremy a look. As if he would want to do anything else with his week off anyway. After a moment of silence, he decided to give the thought that had started buzzing around in his head a voice. “It was during spring break last year that Renee stole me from the Nest,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s been almost a year now.” Almost a year since Kengo died, since Riko finally broke, since Jean was sure he would be headed for the same fate. Jeremy’s hand tightened almost protectively on Jean’s leg. Jean had to try fairly hard to reign in his thoughts before… Before things went bad.

“I thought I was going to die that night,” he admitted, looking down at his hands and studying his palms. He had a large scar horizontally dividing his right palm in half, a reminder of the night when he was 14 and so desperate to make Riko _stop_  that he'd grabbed the knife by the blade and yanked it out of Riko's grip. His hold had been strong enough and the cut deep enough he'd been terrified that he'd cut tendons and damaged his hand beyond repair. Kevin had wanted to send him to the hospital to make sure he hadn't. Jean wasn't sure if that had been out of genuine concern for Jean's wellbeing or because he was worried he wouldn't be able to play. In all honesty it was probably a bit of both. That had been the event which had prompted Riko to start using handcuffs.

Jean wasn’t sure which one of them Jeremy was reassuring when he rubbed his thumb over Jean's knee and said, "But you didn't." He brought his free hand to rest beside the other on Jean’s leg. “You got out. And now you’re here, with me.”

Jean was starting to notice something about Jeremy: a protective streak that presented itself in a unique way. He wasn’t exactly a fighter in the sense Jean was familiar with, but then again neither was Jean himself. His way of fighting was just staying alive. Jeremy, on the other hand, was the very embodiment of the word ‘soft’ and somehow used that defensively, both for himself and anyone he cared about. He had a way of wrapping that softness around Jean, so that it felt like all the world's cruelty couldn’t get to him.

Sometimes, it still felt like too much. Jean still felt like a blind man walking in the dark around Jeremy and the Trojans half the time, so out of his depth after years in the Nest.

Jean also didn’t know how casual conversations with Jeremy always seemed to lead to introspection and deep talks about their feelings. He supposed it was probably because Jeremy was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve and Jean was prone to dramatics.

Still, not matter how or why it happened, or how lost he felt sometimes, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. “Do you ever think about… What would have happened…” He shook his head. “What things would have been like if… If I weren’t here.”

“Honestly?” Jeremy said, ducking his head. “I do. Way too often, and it freaks me the fuck out. Like, did you know we almost couldn’t get you here? It even seemed crazy to me, when Kevin first suggested it, and Coach was a little concerned, at first, and we had to convince USC to buy out your contract from Edgar Allen, which wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t easy to get Edgar Allen to let you go, and—" He cut himself off, flexing his hands into fists and then releasing them so he could grab Jean’s hands in his own. He held on like the contact was the only thing reassuring him that, yes, Jean really was _here_ in LA to spite all the odds. “I don’t know. The entire transfer almost fell apart so many times, and I think about that, way too much.” He shrugged. “Too many _what if’s_.”

For once, Jean thought he could understand Jeremy perfectly. He’d lived in a world of _what if’s_ ever since he was 11 years old and his parents sold him off. This was just the first time that the reality was better than the possibilities Jean thought up. Jean leaned forward so he could rest his forehead against Jeremy’s shoulder. “Sometimes it still doesn’t feel real,” he said, a mumbled confession against Jeremy’s skin. “All of this. Sometimes I still expect to open my eyes and find out I dreamt this entire year.”

"It's real," Jeremy promised him, bringing his hand unto rest in Jean’s hair again. “But wait, does that mean… Um. Would that make me the man of your dreams?”

Jean jerked backwards, giving Jeremy an incredulous stare. “ _Wow_ ,” he deadpanned.

Jeremy grinned at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t resist.”

Jean just shook his head and glared, but it was hard to ever genuinely be angry with Jeremy.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy repeated. “But, hey, look at it this way: if this was a dream, I probably wouldn’t be making shitty jokes like that at the worst possible moment, yeah?”

Jean sighed, but he shifted in his seat so he could lie back against the couch and with his side plastered against Jeremy's and rest his head back against his shoulder. “You can’t do that,” he said. “It’s hard enough to say these things.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said, “okay, I won’t. I’m sorry.”

Jean nodded. It was always like that with Jeremy; he’d respect Jean’s wishes without hesitation. Even after almost a year of it, it was still such a far cry from everything Jean had spent the last several years adjusting to that it was jolting every time. “It’s alright,” he said, linking his fingers through Jeremy’s.

 

-

 

The Trojans last game before the month ended was a home game. Matches were getting more and more challenging as championships progressed and the lesser teams were weeded out, which meant practices were getting more intense and everyone was having to give more and more on the court everyday. Jean was used to it, the amount of effort the Trojans put into championships was about equal to the level the Ravens used to bring to the court during summer practices. He didn’t want it to, but it was definitely dredging up some unpleasant memories and associations.

The game itself came close a couple times, but in the end the Trojans managed to clinch another win by a five point margin, which actually mattered more at this stage than the win itself did. Alvarez shouted loud enough when the final buzzer sounded that Jean thought anyone within a 10-foot radius of her would probably lose their hearing for a while. Jeremy’s reaction was more subtle, but it was equally as jarring to anyone who knew what type of person Jeremy was, which Jean liked to think he did.

Admittedly, his initial reaction was pretty typical, just the usual display of jubilation. But when the team was finally headed off the court, he latched onto Jean’s arm like it was the only thing keeping him upright. He was dead silent on the way to the locker room, and he didn’t have anything to say until they reached the hallway.

“We might actually do it this year,” Jeremy said, his eyebrows pulled close together and looking up at Jean. “We might actually win the whole thing.”

Jean thought about that, meeting Jeremy's eyes. “We just have to beat Penn,” Jean said. “They’re the only real competitors left in this thing. After that, we will.”

“You think so?” Jeremy asked.

“I don’t play for losing teams,” Jean responded haughtily. “Of course I do.”

Jeremy thought about that for a moment. "What about the Foxes? They're still in this thing, and they're last year's champions, after all."

Jean scoffed, waving the concern aside. "The Foxes won primarily thanks to desperation and luck," he said. "And because a certain Captain fucking Sunshine only let nine of his players on the court without any proper preparation."

Jeremy laughed, pulling them to a stop once they reached the team room so they could finish their conversation before splitting up for the showers. “What if we do lose? Are you gonna leave us for Penn State?”

Jean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We won’t lose,” he insisted.

Jeremy considered that for a few seconds. “Where’s all this confidence coming from?”

“Exy has been my entire life since I was eleven,” Jean said, “it’s not confidence. I just know a winning team when I see one.”

“Well, whatever it is, not gonna lie,” Jeremy said, clearing his throat. “It’s kinda hot.”

Jean blinked a couple times at him. “What?”

“Nothing, never mind,” Jeremy said. “Oh, hey, look, it’s Laila! What’s up, Laila?” He spun around to face Laila, who was in fact approaching them from the hallway.

Laila gave him a look and raised one of her eyebrows quizzically, but decided to just cut to the chase. “Do you guys have plans for break yet?”

Jeremy shrugged. “No, I don’t think so,” he said, casting a look up at Jean.

Jean tore his gaze away from Jeremy with some difficulty, but eventually he turned to Laila and shook his head in agreement.

“Perfect,” Laila said, a grin finding its way onto her face. “You should come with Alvarez and I.”

“Come with you where?” Jeremy asked.

“Supposedly Tanya’s fancy new boyfriend has fancy parents with a fancy beach house in Malibu,” Laila said, “and they’re letting him bring some people over for spring break. So, she’s invited you. Or, well,” she corrected, “she invited me and Alvarez and we asked if we could invite you. But she said yes. So, you can come if you want.”

Jeremy looked back up at Jean. “What do you think?”

Jean shrugged. He didn’t really care where he was, as long as Jeremy was there, too. If Laila and Alvarez were there that was just an added bonus. He wasn’t sure how he felt about spending an extended period of time with his other teammates or whoever the hell Tanya’s boyfriend would bring, but he could always use his own boyfriend as a buffer. “If you want to, I’m okay with it,” he said.

Jeremy nodded. “Sounds like fun,” he told Laila. “We’ll be there.”

“Great,” Laila chirped, flashing them a thumbs up. “Alright, talk to you guys later, I’m gonna go shower and probably sleep the entire weekend away,” she told them before she headed off towards the women’s changing room.

Jean decided to follow her lead and started for the changing rooms himself.

“Hey, wait a sec,” Jeremy said.

Jean turned back to him. “Yes?”

“Would you ever want to go back out to the desert? Go star gazing again? Like, maybe tonight? After we get changed?” Jeremy asked.

“Tonight?” Jean raised an eyebrow. “It’s after nine PM, and it’s almost a two hour drive.”

Jeremy shrugged. “So we’ll be up late, big deal. It’s the weekend, we can sleep in tomorrow.”

Jean thought about that for a moment, trying to find a real reason why he should say no, but he couldn’t think of one.

“I mean,” Jeremy started after a few moments of silence. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, I just thought it would be fun, and we haven’t gone since that first time last summer.”

Jean gave Jeremy a small, fleeting smile. It wasn't much, but it the best he was capable of. “It’s winter, it will be cold out there,” he said. “You should bring a jacket or something."

“Or you could just keep me warm,” Jeremy suggested.

Jean never knew how to respond when Jeremy said things like that, so he just shrugged. “Let’s get showered. We can’t go anywhere like this.”

“True,” Jeremy said, grinning and starting towards the changing room.

 

-

 

This time, Jean was the one behind the wheel on the drive out to the middle of nowhere. Jeremy had intended to drive, but he was yawning by the time they made it back out to the parking lot after grabbing what they’d need from the dorm. So Jean had made Jeremy hand over the keys and got into the driver's seat himself, (“I have not survived this much to die because you fell asleep behind the wheel and ran us off the road,” he’d argued) with Jeremy navigating and telling Jean where to go and which turns to take from where he sat in the passenger seat under a pile of sweatshirts and blankets.

Jean had to say he kind of enjoyed the long drive. Jean didn’t think he could qualify any memories from the past decade of his life as _good_ , but his memories of learning how to drive probably came the closest. It was the only time in all those years where he came close to feeling free. He knew he wasn’t, back then, at 15, he was still under the impression that he’d be Riko’s until the day he died, but at least he could get away from Riko and the Nest for a few hours a couple days out of the week. Kevin and Riko learned together, because of course they did. They couldn’t be out of each other's line of sight back then. But Jean had been allowed to learn alone, just him and some instructor who probably worked for the Moriyamas in a car on the outskirts of Charleston where there were no other cars around. It was the only time he ever got to see the sky for more than a few fleeting moments at time, the only time he got away from Riko.

Jean decided to share that story with Jeremy on the way out to the desert, and Jeremy reached over to lay his hand on top of Jean’s where it rested on the steering wheel.

When they reached their destination, Jean almost didn’t recognize the place. The last time he’d been here, they arrived around sunset, but this time darkness had already fallen completely, to the point where if it weren’t for the stars Jean would’ve found it suffocating. But the stars were there, too many to count, making Jean feel dizzy. This kind of darkness was the kind he could live with. Instead of sitting in the field itself, this time Jeremy spread one of his blankets out on the hood of the car and climbed up, motioning for Jean to join him.

Jean slid up onto the car, settling back against the windshield beside Jeremy. For several moments, there was silence. This wasn't the type of activity that needed constant conversation, or really much conversation at all, and even chatty Jeremy fell silent to just enjoy the view.

But Jean couldn't stop thinking, and eventually he broke the silence. “It’s odd,” he said, but stopped, trying to find a way to say what he was thinking.

“What is?” Jeremy asked.

Jean gestured vaguely up at the sky with his hand. “We’re… here,” he said, “just because we felt like it.”

“I'm guessing that's pretty different from what you’re used to?” Jeremy said.

“Something like that,” Jean said.

Jeremy hummed and reached over to take Jean’s hand. “Do you… Do you remember anything from before the Nest? Like, you know, do you have any happy memories from France or something?”

Jean shrugged. “I don’t remember Marseille,” he said. “Not really. And I don’t think my time there was exactly what you’d called ‘happy’ either.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said quietly. “I’m— That’s… I’m sorry.”

Jean shrugged again. “My parents didn’t want a child, and they never tried to hide that from me,” he said, his voice sounding more bitter than he would’ve liked. When he thought back on everything he'd been through, having shitty parents shouldn't even register as a blip on his radar, but for some reason it still left an unpleasant feeling in his chest. “Think about it, Jeremy, what kind of childhood could I really have had with parents who shipped me off to Tetsuji Moriyama at eleven years old?” Something about being out here, with the stars and the sky spread out above him, all that freedom and space, it was bringing everything to the tip of his tongue. Things he hadn’t ever planned to speak aloud.

Jeremy was silent for a moment, before he squeezed Jean’s hand. “Is it okay for me to say I don’t exactly have the highest opinion of your parents?”

Jean almost laughed, but it came out as more of a dry huff. “I’m not very keen on them either.”

“I mean, it was at least… better than the Nest, right?” Jeremy asked.

Jean thought about that. “I suppose. I think I used to have fun with Exy, at least,” he said, sitting up and pulling his knees in close so he could rest his chin on them. “I think I used to love it. When I was a child. Before Riko.”

Jeremy followed his lead, sitting up beside Jean and pulling their hands up so he could hold Jean’s hand between both of his and resting their joined hands in his lap. “Is Exy not… Is it not fun for you?”

Jean took a deep breath. He couldn’t really explain what Exy was to him anymore. “It’s mostly just survival at this point. I don't know if I'd even play if I didn't have to,” he admitted, which was something he hadn't even felt comfortable voicing until now. If Ichirou weren't in the picture, he couldn't say for sure if he wouldn't just walk away from Exy, at least for a while. “It’s better now that I’m here, though,” he added. He didn’t want Jeremy to think he didn’t enjoy being here. No matter how hard it was, he really did want to hold onto this new life he’d stumbled into.

He could feel Jeremy looking at him, but he couldn’t find it in him to look back, so he just kept his eyes fixed on the stars. “Well... I'll do whatever I can to make it fun for you again,” Jeremy promised him. "But wait. What do you mean, if you didn't have to? No one's forcing you to play, Jean."

Jean hadn't really realized he'd slipped up like that. He forgot Jeremy didn't know about Neil's deal with the Moriyamas. Hell, he didn't even know the full truth about the Moriyamas in general. He wondered if there was any way to backpedal and explain it away, before he bit the inside of his cheek and asked, “can I tell you something?”

Jeremy took a moment to respond, but after a minute he said, “anything.”

“You say that now,” Jean muttered. “But you have to understand that if I tell you this, you can’t… You absolutely can _not_ repeat a word of it. Not even to Laila or Alvarez or your family. Not to _anyone_.” He finally turned to face Jeremy, because these were words that likely shouldn’t be said at all, but if he was going to say them he could at least look Jeremy in the eye. “It’s the type of secret that if it gets out, people will be hurt. But…” He shrugged. “You deserve to know what you’re getting into… With me.” Jean said.

“You’re kinda freaking me out here,” Jeremy said, “but... Okay.”

He didn’t know why he was doing this; honestly, he probably shouldn’t. If he wanted to hold onto Jeremy and whatever life he was building here, it was best to lock all this up and never speak about it again. But Kevin had told all of his Foxes, and they’d just tightened their grip on him, and if he was being honest with himself, part of Jean wanted that. He wanted someone to know what kind of nightmares he came from and to still hold onto him.

He also knew that if he wanted this thing with Jeremy to last, he should know. He should understand what he was signing himself up for, and if it was going to scare him away, better that it happened now instead of later on when losing him would be unbearable.

He sighed, trying to decide where to even begin. “Do you know why my parents sent me to live in the Nest? Why they gave me to Tetsuji like that?” It was a redundant question; Jean knew Jeremy didn’t know, but he just needed to get this conversation started somehow.

Jeremy shook his head, and the look on his face said Jean had piqued his interest. “No, you never told me.”

So, Jean told him. It was easier than he thought, considering he was talking about literal mob drama. He explained the Moriyama thing first, about Kengo and Tetsuji and Riko and Ichirou, and then where his own family fit into all of that. How his parents had worked for the main branch since before Jean was born, and how father had gotten into serious debt with Kengo, and Tetsuji had agreed to pay it all off himself if Jean’s parents agreed to hand Jean over.

He explained how the only reason he was even able to play for the Trojans was because Neil Josten had made a deal with Ichirou, how Jean (and Kevin and Neil) had all gone from being Tetsuji’s property to assets for Ichirou, and that as long as he handed over a good portion of his professional earnings, he was safe from harm, but if he didn’t make the cut after graduation… Well, he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, but he hoped Jeremy understood. He reiterated about a thousand times how important it was not to repeat this information; he probably shouldn’t even be repeating it himself, and Jeremy just nodded.

“I understand if it’s too much,” Jean concluded with, when he’d finished explaining everything. “If you don’t want to deal with any of this.” By _this_ he really meant _me_ , which he thought was pretty obvious.

Jean didn’t really know how he expected Jeremy to react, but it wasn’t the way he did. He dropped Jean’s hand, but only so he could grab the fabric of Jean’s hoodie and pull him into a short but fierce kiss.

Jean opened his mouth to say something once Jeremy had pulled away, but it took him three tries before he actually found words. “That wasn’t the reaction I expected,” Jean told him, blinking stars (metaphorical ones) out of his eyes.

“That wasn’t the confession _I_ expected,” Jeremy retaliated.

“What _were_ you expecting?” Jean asked.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy answered, “not that. I didn’t even think things like that _happened_ in real life. You sure you're not just fucking with me?”

“It is fairly outlandish,” Jean granted. "But it's all true."

“That is the understatement of the century,” Jeremy mumbled, running one of his hands through his hair, which somehow had the effect of making it look even messier than normal.

Jean almost laughed, but then something occurred to him. “So, what, this is okay with you? You're not going to—”

“What, not going to leave you? No,” Jeremy said. “No, I’m not. I mean, I won’t lie, I _am_ kind of freaked out. See?” He held up his hand, and even in the dim light of the stars Jean could see the tremor there. Jean instinctively reached out to take it to try and stop the shaking and counted it as a good sign that Jeremy didn’t pull away. “Like, Jesus, my boyfriends’ life is the plot of some angsty mafia thriller." He laughed nervously. "But I couldn’t do that. I can’t just walk away from you, especially knowing there’s this terrifying thing looming over your head like this.”

“I can handle it myself,” Jean said. “I have been for years.”

“I know you can.” Jeremy shook his head. “I’m pretty sure you could handle anything, at this point. But, that’s not the point. The point is, I care about you, like, a lot, and this doesn’t change that.”

Jean furrowed his eyebrows, thinking this definitely shouldn’t have been so _easy_. “You have terrible survival instincts,” he finally told Jeremy.

Jeremy shrugged. “To be fair, I’ve never really needed any survival instincts until now.”

Jean tilted his head to one side so he could consider Jeremy, searching for words and trying to piece together the last few moments of their conversation. “I feel like you should have a stronger reaction to this,” he finally settled on.

“Probably,” Jeremy agreed. “I’m probably going to freak the fuck to when it really sinks in. But mostly I just…” He frowned. “I’m just thinking about how fucking awful that must have been for you. I mean I knew the Nest was bad, but I guess this just kind of… Puts into perspective how… how terrible it must have been.”

“You still don’t even know the worst of it,” Jean said, needing to look away at this point.

Jeremy slid over and fitted himself again Jean’s side, grabbing onto one of Jean's hands and pulling Jean's arm over his own shoulders. “You can talk to me about it, if you want,” Jeremy volunteered. “If you ever feel like you need to get it off your shoulders.”

Jean shook his head. “I don’t think you really want to know,” he replied.

“Maybe not,” Jeremy said, “but the offer still stands.”

“Not tonight,” was all Jean could to say to that. This wasn’t the time nor the place to talk about _that_ fucking nightmare.

Jeremy hummed and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Whenever. You don’t have to, either. I’m just saying I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.”

Jean leaned his head over to rest on Jeremy’s, but didn’t say anything else. Jeremy seemed content to let the silence stretch and watch the stars.

 

-

 

On Monday after practice, Jean finally made an appointment at a tattoo shop a few minutes out from campus. Jeremy drove him there, but Jean asked him to wait in the car while he talked to the artist. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was getting until afterwards. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he just thought it felt right. This was all him; something he was doing on his own completely for himself. He’d only just decided what he wanted to get, and he was afraid if he told anyone else he’d lose his nerve or decide it was a bad idea or something. So he kept it between himself and the artist, and made an appointment for Wednesday afternoon to finally get rid of the number he’d been wearing for 10 years now. He couldn’t erase all the marks Riko had left on him, there were too many for that, but he could at least erase the number that had marked him as Riko’s property.

Once he’d figured out what he wanted, he was antsy as hell just to get it over with, and the two days between making the appointment and the appointment itself seemed to drag by. He didn’t tell anyone except for Jeremy about his plans, and even that was only because Jeremy was his ride. Otherwise he probably would’ve kept it to himself until he just showed up with new ink on his face Thursday morning.

His appointment was scheduled for 5:20 PM on Wednesday, and with practice letting out at five Jean had to hurry to get ready in time. He was the first done with his shower, but Jeremy wasn’t far behind. He was almost as glad to see Jean get rid of that godforsaken number as Jean was himself, especially after Jean had told him the Moriyama truth and what the number really meant. Jeremy had a serious problem with the idea of Jean being ‘property’ to anyone, especially Riko, and Jean was starting to think he resented the tattoo.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Jeremy asked, not for the first time, once they made it to Jeremy’s little yellow car.

Jean nodded. “Very sure.” He thought it was a positive step forward that he was being so insistent about this. He was slowly learning to draw his own lines and not letting anyone cross them. He also thought it was a good sign that he was able to even think of being alone in a strange place for who knew how long without panicking. “I don’t want anyone to see it until it’s done,” he explained, also not for the first time.

“Okay, okay,” Jeremy said. “I’m just excited for you.”

“I know.” Jean said, looking over to watch Jeremy as he drove.

Luckily the place Jean had selected was close enough to the school that traffic wasn’t much of an issue. Granted, it was LA at rush hour so the streets weren’t empty, but they were able to get there in under ten minutes.

Jeremy pulled into the parking lot, and Jean’s hand stilled on the door handle for a moment before actually getting out. Raven conditioning was a hard thing to break free from, and even this far out of the Nest there was still a small part of him that told him this was wrong, that he’d worked to be number three, that he shouldn’t want to give that up. He shivered, and did his best to crush those thoughts.

“Call me when you’re done, okay?” Jeremy said. “I’ll come get you.”

Jean nodded. “Okay,” he said, and stepped out of the car.

The tattoo artist who was going to be covering his tattoo was a woman named Lisa in her mid or possibly late 30’s with short, bright white hair, which vaguely reminded Jean of Renee. She greeted him when he walked in, and told him to take a seat and wait for her to prep the area. Jean took the opportunity to look around the shop, and decided he was distinctly not a fan of the color scheme. Too much black and red, which was doing nothing to help his nerves. The reception area, with the waiting chairs and the register, had a red linoleum floor and black walls, while the area behind the counter where the actual tattoos were given was the opposite; black floor, red walls. At least there was a good deal of artwork on the walls, obscuring the paint job. He hoped one day he’d be able to look at those two colors without it shaking the ground under his already unsteady mental footing.

 _They’re just colors_ , he told himself. _Riko’s dead_.

Lisa finally called him back to one of the stations behind the counter, and once again Jean attempted to shove any thoughts of the Ravens aside.

She had him lay back in a black leather chair and tilt his face to one side, and by the time she’d set up the ink and gotten everything sterilized Jean was starting to regret not bringing Jeremy along. How was he supposed to trust this complete stranger with any kind of sharp object near his face? He was completely vulnerable sitting in her chair like that, this woman could do anything to him, and he had told the first person Jean really learned to trust in his life, one of the only people who'd ever actually stood up for him, not to be there with him. He was realizing now how foolish that was.

 _This is not the time for a panic attack_ , Jean thought. _Just hold it together. Hold it_ together.

Maybe Lisa could sense his anxiety, because as she was applying the stencil to his face she attempted to make conversation. “So, I gotta ask,” she said. “Was this some sort of drunken dare or something like that? Why is there a three one your face?”

Jean stopped himself from flinching when he heard the buzzing which meant she’d turned the tattoo gun on and did his best to keep his face still. He was a little baffled at being asked that question. “You don’t follow Exy?” He asked.

“Nah,” she said. “I’m not big on sports. I mean, my son’s into soccer, but I don’t really get the appeal. Are you a big Exy fan, than?”

Jean stopped himself from shaking his head just in time. He felt a little more of his bravado crumble away; he wasn’t typically one for verbal conversation or small talk with strangers, and being unable to communicate with nonverbal cues was a little inhibiting, especially when he couldn’t use his native language. It was also a little unsettling that with the angle his head was in, he couldn’t exactly get a good look at the woman. “I play,” he finally said. “For USC. I’m a Trojan.” That last bit was more for himself than for her.

“Good for you,” she said. “So the number is an Exy thing?”

Again, Jean had to stop himself from nodding and messing up her work. He was growing tenser and tenser by the second. It wasn’t the pain; Jean was used to pain, it was still just the idea of letting this stranger touch him and put something permanent on his face. “Yes,” he managed to get out.

“Alright,” the artist hummed. “So, are there more dudes out there walking around with numbers on their faces? Is there a ‘one’ and a ‘two’? Or is it just you?”

Jean swallowed a lump in his throat. He so did _not_ want to talk about this. But it was either follow the conversation or get lost in his bottomless supply of panic. He stared at a vividly-colored painting which was hung on the wall above the door to the tattoo parlor, just so he wouldn’t focus on all the _black and red_. “There was,” he said. “It went up to four.” He supposed he could’ve stopped there, but that Trojan chattiness _really_ was contagious. “Number one died. Number two covered his as well, and number four’s was burnt off with a dashboard lighter.”

Lisa made a sharp noise, but her hand stayed steady as she inked Jean’s design onto his cheekbone. “Shit,” she said. “I bet there’s a story there.”

“There is.” Was all Jean said, his tone final. There certainly _was_ a story there, but he wasn’t about to tell it, especially not to a stranger.

She seemed to take the hint, because she switched topics. She asked him about USC, and even tried to talk to him about Exy, even though she’d said she didn’t care about sports. Likely she was used to having panicky clients in her chair and was doing whatever she could to keep him calm and steady. Those topics were easier to talk about, anyway. He could always talk about Exy, even if it was a little infuriating trying to explain the basics to someone completely oblivious about the sport.

For such a small tattoo, it took a surprisingly long time to get done. The design was barely any larger than a quarter, but it still took almost 45 minutes from start to finish. When that was done, the artist told Jean to take a look, but he just shook his head. She seemed skeptical of that, but she accepted it after a while and covered up his cheek with a bandage.

She handed him a piece of paper with aftercare instructions on them when she followed Jean up to the counter so he could pay her. “You play sports, right?” Lisa asked while his payment was processing, and Jean nodded. “If I were you, I’d just keep a tube of Aquaphor on you for the next week or so, especially if you’re gonna be, like, sweating a bunch.”

Jean just nodded again, shoving the paper in his pocket and returning his debit card to his wallet after Lisa handed it back to him. Without another word, he exited the shop and sat down on the curb outside the building.

It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, and he couldn’t really believe his ‘3’ was actually _gone_ , but at least it was done and he was out in the open where he could breathe easier. It was one of those rare overcast days in LA, and there was a slight chill every time the breeze picked up.

He pulled his phone out of his sweatshirt pocket, looking through it until he found Jeremy’s number and pressing it to his ear. He held his free hand up in front of his face while his phone dialed out. He clenched his fingers into a fist and held his hand to his chest in an attempt to quell the slight shaking he’d noted in his fingers.

Jeremy picked up after the fourth ring. “Hey there, _chéri_ ,” he said.

Jean opened his mouth but forgot what he’d been about to say. “What did you just say?” He asked instead.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I thought it meant, like, darling or sweetheart or something in French,” Jeremy said, a little sheepishly.

“It does,” Jean confirmed, nodding even though Jeremy couldn’t see him. “I just didn’t expect you to call me that." His words came a little slowly. "And your pronunciation needs work.”

Tat made Jeremy laugh softly. “So, are you done now?”

That helped Jean remember why he’d called in the first place. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it’s finished.”

“Cool. I’ll be there in a sec,” Jeremy said.

“See you soon,” Jean said, and then added at the last second, “ _Mon cher_.”

It took a moment for Jeremy to reply, but eventually he said, “Yep. See you soon,” and hung up.

Jean put his phone back in his pocket, and stuffed his hands in after it, leaning forward over his knees while he waited for Jeremy. Every time a car passed Jean’s head jerked up, but it was still several minutes before he spotted Jeremy’s car coming down the road and pulling into the parking lot. Jean got to his feet before the car had even come to a complete stop, walking over to the passenger side. He tried the handle to find it locked, and Jeremy leaned over to get it unlocked before Jean finally got in.

Even after such a short period apart, it was a massive relief to see Jeremy again. The last 45 minutes of his life had been massively emotionally taxing, and just being back in familiar territory took the edge off at least a little bit.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, smiling at Jean. “How’d it go?”

Before Jeremy could get the car back into gear and pull out of the parking lot, Jean grabbed one of his hands in-between both of his. He brought Jeremy’s knuckles up and pressed them to his lips, a gesture Jeremy himself had done many times to Jean. Really, the entire afternoon still felt unreal to him, and he wasn’t sure if he felt horrified or free. Either way his system was overloading with _something_ , so he held onto Jeremy’s hand and let it bring him back to _here_ and _now_.

“Um,” Jeremy said, squeezing one of Jean’s hands with his. “I’m not sure how to interpret that answer.”

Jean finally let go of Jeremy’s hand, mostly so he could buckle his seatbelt. “It’s gone,” was all he managed to say, looking over at Jeremy.

Jeremy’s eyes found the bandage on his left cheekbone. “It’s gone,” he agreed. “Do I get to see it now?”

“Later,” Jean promised him. “I’m supposed to leave it covered for a while.” It was more of an excuse than anything, he wasn’t in the mood to look at it again any time soon. He didn’t regret covering it; he’d hated that number and wanted it gone, _badly_ , for ages. But he still hadn’t entirely shaken the feeling that this was _wrong_ , that he’d be punished for it somehow.

But all Jeremy did was smile again and turn his attention forward so he could drive them back to the dorm. “Alright,” he said, flicking his blinker on before turning out of the parking lot onto the road to drive them back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i?? don't know how i feel about this chapter. it was hard 4 me to write bc of depression and such so it all feels very forced (i guess??) to me. but then again im hyper-critical of everything i produce so maybe it was good and im just being an ass to myself and not cutting myself a break. idk. im just rambling at this point sorry yikes. one day ill stop rambling in these note sections i swear
> 
> also i know its a popular hc that jeans bday is march third but i Could Not do that to my boy! i couldnt do him dirty like that!!!! nora already made kevin's bday 2/22 i physically could not make jean's 3/3 im not that fuckin rude


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: doesn't update for a month & then updates twice in one week. what even is a consistent update schedule. (unfortunately the next chap won't be out for a while. i've barely started it. it looks like another long wait after this sorry y'all)
> 
> thank u guys for the comments. they mean a lot to me. u guys are way too nice to me & seriously it makes my entire day <3
> 
> so. the Big Reveal for the tattoo. i hope it was worth the wait. i spent a lot of time thinking abt what he would get. like, weeks,
> 
> i wrote this as i was coming out of a major depressive episode so it's kind of all over the place and pretty melodramatic (like author like writing, right folks?) but i had a ton of fun with it, so, i hope u guys have fun reading it :3c

It took Jean a while to actually take the bandage off his face and deal with the reality of what he'd done. In a way it sort of felt like a part of his identity had been erased, but hadn't he been _trying_ to erase that bit of him all year? He didn’t want to be _Riko’s_ anymore. He didn’t want any part of him tied to the Ravens.

But it wasn’t as easy as Jean would’ve liked. It wasn’t like he could just magically make himself _okay_. This whole ‘recovery’ thing was messy and complicated and even things Jean knew he wanted, that he knew were positive steps forward, sometimes still twisted his insides up in an unpleasant way. He'd have to talk to Jess about this whole ordeal on Monday.

And that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t glad he’d done it; every time he thought about it, a little electric jolt went through him, the thrill of getting that much closer to taking back his own life.

When they got back to the dorm, Jean toed out of his shoes and brought his homework out into the living room to work on while Jeremy made his way to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the both of them. Jean set his textbook and notebook out on the coffee table and sat on the floor between it and the couch, going silent as he tried to focus on his assignments. He couldn’t seem to keep his mind from wandering, and he kept bringing his hand up to poke at his face, wincing a bit each time. The skin was irritated and sore from the new tattoo, and it wasn’t helping that he kept jabbing at it with his fingers.

Apparently, Jeremy thought the same, because after a while he took a seat next to Jean on the floor and gently grabbed Jean's wrist, giving it a light squeeze. “Stop,” he said. “It’ll get infected or something.”

Jean sighed, but Jeremy was right. He nodded to show his acquiescence, and glanced over at Jeremy. Tetsuji had definitely been right about dating, it _was_ a distraction. But Jean didn’t really mind being distracted.

Jean cleared his throat. “You should get back to your food before it burns,” he said after a stretch of the two of them just looking at each other.

Jeremy nodded. “No more poking at it,” he instructed before he headed back into the kitchen. Jean turned back to his textbook and laid his left hand flat against the coffee table to keep it away from his face. He was pretty sure touching the thing wouldn’t actually cause any harm considering it was covered, but at least he could avoid the little jolt of pain that came with each press of fingers.

Jean didn’t get much done after that. He couldn’t quite get his mind to settle long enough to focus on his homework, so eventually he closed his textbook and leaned back, letting his hands take his weight and dropping his head back onto the couch cushion behind him. He didn’t think he sat like that for very long, but after a minute Jeremy sat down next to him. He looked up and accepted the bowl Jeremy handed him, not even caring what it was. He hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime and it was now almost seven at night.

For the most part, Jean usually liked whatever Jeremy cooked. The only exception being when he made something with ridiculous amounts of chocolate in it, but that was typically only in the morning or when he was baking something, and even that he was starting to get used to. Jeremy usually cooked dinner for them, but that was mostly because Jean still froze at the sight of knives so he wasn't too good at cooking anything beyond pasta or toast. But Jeremy also made good food, so Jean wasn't complaining.

Jeremy sat down next to him, crossing his legs so his toes were hidden under his thighs, probably to keep them warm. Jean still couldn’t think of much to say, but Jeremy seemed fine to sit and eat in silence for now.

Eventually, Jean set his mostly empty bowl on the coffee table and turned to Jeremy. “Do you want to see it now?” He asked.

“See wh— Oh,” Jeremy set his own bowl aside on the floor and nodded, turning towards Jean. “Yeah. Yes, definitely.”

Jean took a breath and reached up to pull at the bandage on his cheek. Taking the tape off pulled at his skin in a vaguely unpleasant way, but it felt better once it was off.

Jean hadn’t actually looked in a mirror yet, but he knew what his new tattoo looked like. He’d gone over it with the artist, and she’d shown him a drawing of it before actually inking it on him. It was the only thing he could really think of that had any meaning to him. When he thought about moving on from the Ravens he thought of California, and the sunny LA sky, so he’d settled on a simple image of the sun. It was black, since Jean had figured that would be the most effective in hiding the number below it. It was small, the entire design no bigger than a quarter, but it was big enough to hide the number entirely, like it had never even been there.

Jeremy brought his hand up but stopped just shy of actually touching the mark on Jean’s cheek. Instead he dropped it to settle on Jean’s shoulder, and he used his other hand to cup Jean’s right cheek, a soft touch against his skin. After that there was mostly just a lot of kissing, which Jean took as a good sign.

“Does that mean you like it?” Jean asked, when they broke apart so Jeremy could trail a line of kisses down his jaw instead of his lips.

Jean could feel Jeremy smile against his skin. “Yes, I really do,” he said, pulling back so he could look at Jean again. “It suits you. You're so fucking cute, I love it,” He punctuated his words with another kiss. “I love _you_ ,” he added.

Jean took a moment to process that, but when he did he jerked backwards fast enough he almost fell onto the floor. “Wait, _what_?”

Jeremy pursed his lips, diverting his eyes down to the floor. “Is is too soon to say that?” He didn’t even give Jean time to respond before he started babbling nervously. “God, it probably is, huh? I’m sorry, I don’t wanna, like, freak you out or anything. I mean, Jesus, it’s only been like, what, two months? _Barely_ two months, is, that’s— that’s way too early, right?”

“Jeremy,” Jean said, in an attempt to interrupt his rambling.

But Jeremy didn't seem to hear him at all, because he just kept going like Jean hadn’t even spoken. “I mean, hey, in my defense, though, I did warn you I get invested in relationships way too fast, and you did say that wasn’t going to scare you off. And, to be fair, we have known each other since May, and I’ve had feelings for you since, like, July, so I've had-” he counted off the months on his fingers as he talked- “Seven months to fall in love with you. And, you know—”

“ _Jeremy_ ,” Jean said, firmer this time, cutting him off.

This time Jeremy heard him, and he snapped his eyes back up to Jean’s, falling silent.

Jean opened his mouth, but he couldn’t really make anything come out of it. He’d had something he was planning to say. He’d had _a lot_ of things to say, but when he actually went to say something his mind was perfectly blank and he seemed to forget every single word in all three languages he knew. He clenched the fingers on both hands into fists and then opened them up again, laying his palms flat against his thighs. He didn’t know if he had it in him to look at Jeremy, but he felt like looking away would be worse.

Jeremy gave a shaky, nervous laugh, running both his hands through his hair. “No pressure, but it’d be great if you could say… like, anything, right about now.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Jean found himself supplying. It was the truth, anyway. His mind was still unhelpfully and painfully blank.

“Okay,” Jeremy said, nodding slowly. “Okay, that’s fair, I guess.”

Jean didn’t really think it was. Jeremy had told him he’d been hurt before for doing pretty much exactly this, and Jean knew his reaction couldn’t be the one Jeremy wanted, or expected. He also knew there was no way he wasn’t about to make it worse. But Jeremy was too damned understanding for his own good, so Jean forced himself to go on as best he could. “I…” Jean frowned, his mind helpfully supplying him with a whole lot of nothing and what he thought was panic“I don’t—“

“Look,” Jeremy cut him off. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back yet if you don’t want to, I know it’s still pretty soon to say it at all.”

“That is not the issue,” Jean said. “I don’t even know the proper timeline for these things. I don’t know when ‘too soon’ is. The issue is…” He frowned, changing what he'd been about to say at the last second. Where a few seconds ago he couldn't think of anything at all, now there was _too much_ going on in his head, thoughts all jostling to be voiced first. “What do you even get out of this?" He asked. "I will always wind up taking more than I give here, I don’t understand…”

He trailed off, but judging by the look on Jeremy’s face, he could understand what Jean was getting at. “What do you mean?” Jeremy asked.

Jean shrugged weakly. Really, he’d been thinking it for a while, but he was too stupidly happy with Jeremy that he was able to shove those concerns to the back of his mind. That is, until Jeremy had said he was in love with him. That… Well. That was a lot to deal with. “Jeremy,” Jean protested, “You have to realize I’m never going to be able to…” He made a frustrated sort of sound in the back of his throat. “I will never be able to love you like you deserve.”

A range of emotions passed over Jeremy’s face, but eventually he settled on a look Jean thought was skepticism. “No offense, but that’s probably one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard you say.”

Jean blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That’s crap, Jean,” Jeremy said again.

“Why?” Jean asked, almost defensively. “It’s true.”

“Well, okay, no it’s not,” Jeremy argued, “I’m happy with you, Jean. Like, so ridiculously happy. What I _deserve_ is to be with the person who makes me _happy_.”

Jean resisted the urge to just flat out tell him he was being stupid. Instead, Jean looked down at his hands and pulled at his sleeves until they were covering most of his fingers. “Are you, though? Are you _really_?” He asked coldly, his own voice surprising him in an unpleasant way. He sounded way too close to the way he used to sound when he lived with the Ravens.

“Of course I am,” Jeremy said firmly.

Jean opened his mouth, but shut it again and continued glaring down at his hands. “You think that now," he shook his head. "But it won’t last,” he insisted.

“What are you trying to say?” Jeremy asked.

Jean shrugged again. He got to his feet, suddenly feeling too agitated to stay seated. Jeremy followed a second later, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know,” Jean admitted, shaking his head. “Just drop it.”

“No, I don’t wanna drop it,” Jeremy said with audible nerves. “Look, if you want to, like, break up with me or something, you have to do it yourself. Don’t just try to push me away, because it won't work.” Jeremy ran both his hands through his hair. “I mean, Jesus, Jean, last week you told me you have this weird bargain with the literal Japanese mafia, and I’m still here. Do you really think you can chase me off that easy?”

“No,” Jean said, his heart leaping into his throat and anxiety flooding his system in earnest now. “No, that’s not what I want at all.” His voice was quiet and came out a bit rough. “I—” He cut himself off, having no real idea what to say next. It seemed like words were always failing him when he needed them most, especially around Jeremy. In his defense, he’d never learned how to speak like this. He’d never needed to before now. In fact, he’d actively tried to bury this part of himself in the Nest, seeing as any type of softness would be treated as weakness and used against him in some vicious way.

He needed to get some space from this; after everything that had happened today, his nerves had been pushed to the breaking point, and if he kept going the way he was right now, nothing good would happen. He balled his hands into fists at his sides until his short nails managed to bite into his palms. “I have to go,” he wound up saying.

The next thing he knew he was slamming the front door shut behind him and slumping against it. Thankfully, Jeremy didn’t follow him, but Jean wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. Either that meant he knew Jean needed to clear his head, or Jean had hurt him bad enough that he didn’t even want to be around him right now. He hoped for the former, but his anxieties seemed intent on convincing him it was the latter.

It was only once he was out in the hall that he realized he had no idea where to go. He couldn’t go see the girls, not when he was in the mental state that he was in. And he couldn’t quite turn to any of his other teammates; he wasn't close enough with any of them to let them know how much of a fucking mess he still was. He debated going to the court, but he didn’t have keys to the stadium and he doubted Rhemann would be there to keep the door open like last time, considering how late it was getting.

With no other options, he slid to the floor, until he was sitting with his back against the door and his knees pulled up close to his chest. He wasn’t even wearing any shoes, and he didn’t have his keys on him, but he did have his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he wanted. His phone's battery was running low, the little symbol in the corner of his screen flashing red, but Jean hoped it had enough juice to make the call.

“Hello?” Renee said, picking up after only a couple rings. Jean thought he could hear Allison Reynolds in the background saying something, but he couldn’t make out what.

“Hi, Renee,” Jean said, sounding weary and exhausted even to himself. “Are you busy right now?”

“No,” Renee said. “Just finishing up some homework.”

“Can you talk, than?” Jean asked her. He tried not to be annoyed at the way a note of desperation tinged his voice.

“Sure,” she said. “Let me just go somewhere quiet.” Jean definitely heard Allison put up some sort of protest at that, but Renee quieted her and after a few moments she came back on the line. “What’s up, Jean?”

Jean worked his jaw for a moment. He almost couldn’t say it. But he needed to talk to _someone_ , and Renee had always been there when he needed her, had always been good at calming him down. He lowered his voice so neither Jeremy nor the students in any of the surrounding dorms could hear him through the thin walls and rested his forehead against her knees. “Jeremy says he loves me,” he told her, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Renee said softly. “That sounds like good news, but I take it from your tone of voice that it’s not?”

“I don’t know,” was all Jean could say.

“Okay,” Renee hummed. “Well, what happened after that?” Renee asked, after Jean was quiet for a moment.

“I… don’t remember exactly,” he admitted. “Nothing good.” He couldn’t quite recall what he’d said, it was all kind of running together, anxiety scrambling his memories and making them indecipherable. He just knew he’d reacted… poorly.

“Oh,” Renee said again, taking a moment to search for words. “Well… Do you feel the same way?” She asked.

Jean brought his free hand up and dragged it roughly through his hair, tugging at the shorter strands near the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Renee,” he said, although he was fairly sure he did. But… It was complicated. “No one has ever said those words to me and… and meant them.” Just saying it aloud was painful, and made him feel pretty fucking awful.

Jean wasn’t a crier. He had been as a child, he was fairly certain, but Riko had beaten that out of him a long time ago. The last time he’d actually cried had been at night after the first time Riko forced one of the other Ravens into bed with him. To spite all that, he thought he could feel his throat closing uncomfortably right now. He couldn’t deal with the possibility that Jeremy was lying to him or otherwise using the words to manipulate him, but a lifetime spent exclusively around shitty people had taught him to expect it. He also hated the possibility that his own insecurities might drive some sort of wedge between them. “The last people I loved were my parents, and they repaid that by shipping me to Evermore.”

Renee’s silence told him she understood, or at least she was trying to understand, what he was saying. He was glad for the break in conversation, because someone had just come out of the dorm across the hall from his. The woman took a second to glance at him, but he just glared at her until she turned away and disappeared into the stairwell at the other end of the hall.

Renee finally spoke up again as the door to the stairwell was swinging closed. “I think I understand,” she finally told him, which Jean wasn’t really expecting. “I’ve told you what my biological mother was like, about my past in Detroit.” She was so serene in that moment, and Jean wondered if he’d ever get to a point in his life where he could sound so calm when reminiscing about his own past.

“I remember,” Jean said. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to Renee: not the darkness that she’d experienced, but the fact that she’d worked hard to turn her life around and eventually overcome it. They’d faced some of the same horrors in their respective, miserable childhoods, along with some nightmares unique to their situations, and Renee had somehow made it out the other side with a family and a bright heart and a future. She tried everyday to be a better person, and that made her an inspiration for Jean.

“I know it’s difficult, to accept this kind of thing in your heart, but I think the best thing to do right now is just talk to Jeremy,” Renee suggested gently. "I don't know how much help I can honestly be."

Jean had been afraid she’d say that, but she was probably right. He just didn’t know if he could do that right now. He didn’t know what to say, and he was afraid of what Jeremy might say. Jean made a vague sort of humming sound that could have been acquiescence, but was more noncommittal than anything.

There was about five minutes of silence before Jean finally pulled the phone away from his ear and realized the battery had apparently given out mid-conversation. He pressed a couple buttons to confirm it was really dead, and cursed when the screen stayed black. He’d have to remember to call or text Renee back later, when he charged his phone, so she wouldn’t think he’d hung up on her.

Jean dropped his hand away from his ear, shoving his dead, useless phone back in his pocket. He leaned his head back against the door and curled his arms around his chest, digging his fingers into his sides and staring up at the ceiling.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he stayed like that. Time was still weird for him sometimes, especially when he got particularly panicky or anxious, even almost a year out of the Nest. It was long enough that the woman in the dorm across from him returned and slipped back into her room, this time not sparing even a glance at Jean. He’d seen people do stranger things around the campus, so he supposed college kind of desensitized people to seeing other students acting out of the norm.

He still hadn’t entirely sorted out his thoughts, but he was making progress when the door behind him swung open. Jean almost fell backwards, but he managed to catch himself with his hands at the last second. He turned his head and looked up at Jeremy, who was looking back at him with obvious surprise on his face, and his keys in his hand.

“Oh,” Jeremy said. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jean returned stiffly.

“I was, um. I was just going to look for you.”

So maybe Jean had been out here for longer than he thought. He almost went to check the time before he remembered his phone was out of battery. “I’ve been here the whole time,” he admitted.

Jeremy nodded and after a moment held out his hand for Jean, who hesitated before taking it and letting Jeremy help him up.

“Do you want to come inside?” Jeremy asked.

‘Do you want to.’ Not ‘will you’ or ‘can you.’ Jean hadn’t really noticed it until now, but now that he thought about it, Jeremy always phrased his questions like that. It was such a simple shift in vernacular, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference for anyone else, but for Jean it pretty much made all the difference in the world. He wondered briefly how Jeremy had known to do that.

Jean nodded, and stepped over the threshold with the tips of his fingers still held loosely in Jeremy’s hand. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch Jeremy right now, not after… earlier, but the look on Jeremy’s face made him want to. Jeremy had _told_ him how vulnerable putting himself out there like he had made him feel, how he’d been shut down and rejected for showing it in the past, and Jean had done the same thing to him.

They stood there, just taking each other in, for a decent stretch of time, until Jeremy finally shifted forward slightly. “So, um—" Jeremy started, but Jean didn’t let him finish.

"I'm sorry," Jean said, cutting him off and pulling him in close. For some reason, he managed to feel more exposed and vulnerable at that moment than he had in a while. Just something about this entire day made him feel incredibly exhausted, too exhausted to keep any of his walls up. But this was _Jeremy_ , so he tried not to let that rattle him, and just wrapped his arms around Jeremy's waist. Admittedly, it was a little awkward considering how much taller Jean was than Jeremy, but Jeremy made it easier by standing up on his toes.

“Oh, hey,” Jeremy said, looping his own arms around Jean’s neck and pulling him closer. Jean felt his breath hitch for a second before breathing got easier than it had been all night. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. You were obviously having a rough day already and I just kind of dropped even more on your shoulders.”

Jean shook his head. “No. I should not have… Have reacted that way. I don’t want you to think…” He took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his unsteady voice. “I really, really do _not_ want to lose you. It’s just…”

“Just what?” Jeremy asked softly.

Jeremy pulled back a bit, but he didn’t go far. He stayed close enough for Jean to dig his fingers into the fabric of Jeremy’s sweater, (which he would belatedly realize was _his_ ; it was his official Trojans team hoodie with his name and number on the back) and for Jeremy to place his hands on either side of Jean’s face. Jean winced slightly, and Jeremy muttered an apology before moving his hand away from Jean’s left cheek. There was a point in Jean’s life where he wouldn’t have even registered the aggravated skin on his cheek as something painful. He couldn't remember his number being painful at all. But even if he still had a lot to work through, his body, at least, was acclimating to life as a Trojan, where he didn’t have a new knife cut or broken bone to contend with every week.

Jean wasn’t sure if he could go through this again, but he heard Renee’s voice telling him to talk to Jeremy, and Renee was usually right about these things. “No one has ever… said what you said to me, and actually meant it. No one has ever…” He shrugged. “It is... hard to believe, even coming from you. It doesn't make since. I think… I think I was just expecting something... bad.”

“I don’t know what to say to change that,” Jeremy said, “but I really want to. I hope you learn to believe it, because I really do love you.”

It wasn’t any easier hearing it the second time, but at least this time it didn't instinctively make him want to lash out to protect himself. He hadn’t even been allowed to be human for the past ten years, so that awful little part of him still tried to tell him there was no way someone like Jeremy could ever be in love with someone like him.

But he desperately wanted to believe it, if he was being honest. If he was being _brutally_ honest, more honest than he’d ever really let himself be, he’d probably been in love with Jeremy for a while now. He didn’t know what it felt like, being in love with someone, since he’d never experienced it before. But now that he had a word for it, he was fairly certain he’d felt this way for some time, possibly since before he’d even kissed Jeremy back in December.

Or maybe that was just his dramatic streak over-exaggerating things in his head. Either way it was a little overwhelming when he was confronted with it like this, and he still neded some time to sort his shit out.

“I don’t know how to say it back yet,” Jean admitted. “But please just… be patient, and give me some time?”

“I already told you I would,” Jeremy said, and pulled him down into a kiss. There was a little bit of desperation on both ends, and Jean clung to Jeremy as if he was on the verge of floating away, and Jeremy could keep him on the ground. In a way, it was true. Jeremy was good at bringing him back to earth when he got lost in not-so-great memories. It was a little jarring that Jeremy seemed to be holding him the same way.

Jean didn’t get anything done for the rest of the night. He’d never managed to finish the homework he set out to get done when he first got home. But he still had above average grades, so one late assignment wouldn’t kill him. Jeremy didn’t have any assignments due the following day, so he didn’t complain about spending the rest of the night with Jean.

Jeremy had described himself on more than one occasion as ‘clingy,’ but if anything Jean was the one being clingy tonight. When it came time for Jean to actually get to sleep he found he couldn't. After a good deal of tossing and turning, he eventually just gave up trying to sleep and stared up at the ceiling. Finally, when Jeremy came in the bedroom for the night, Jean sat up and caught his wrist as he passed between their beds. "Stay with me," he said, tugging Jeremy over to him and looking up into his eyes.

Jeremy smiled and bent down to brush his lips against Jean's forehead. "Okay," he said, and after he got changed into his pajamas he slid into bed beside Jean. Jean scooted down in the bed so he could lay his head on Jeremy’s shoulder, hiding his face in the base of his neck, and Jeremy wrapped his arms around Jean, and he finally managed to get some rest.

 

-

 

The next morning started off on an interesting note.

Jean was waiting for the elevator on the sixth floor, and Jeremy was leaning on him a bit, holding a cup of coffee he hadn’t had the time to finish before leaving for morning practice. Since it was so early and hardly anyone else would be awake at this hour, the elevator dinged almost instantly, the glossy silver doors sliding open so Jean could step inside with Jeremy right behind him.

Jean pressed the button for the ground floor, but the elevator stopped again after only descending one floor. When the doors opened this time, they revealed Laila, Alvarez, Drew, and Jason. Alvarez was having a conversation with Drew that even Jean thought was way too animated for this time of day, but she cut herself off when the four of them piled into the elevator and she got a look at Jean.

“Oh my god,” Alvarez exclaimed, doing a double take, and then she laughed, loud and genuine and a little wild. Before anyone could ask what was so funny, she wrapped her arms around Jean’s torso and hugged him tight enough to take him off his feet, which was alarming because Alvarez was about the same height as Jeremy, meaning she was a good half a foot shorter than Jean.

When she set him down, Jean retreated a couple steps back until he was standing beside Jeremy. He placed one of his hands on Jeremy’s arm, his eyes wide with surprise at Alvarez’s little outburst and worry that she might do it again.

Jean wasn’t the only one sending her odd looks, but before he could demand an explanation, she was up in his space again, standing on her toes and staring at his cheek. “Oh my _god_ ,” she said again, still beaming. “Is that _real_?”

Oh. Okay. _That_.

Jean had thought a lot about the new tattoo; seeing it in the mirror this morning had been a shock, but he hadn’t even considered the team's reactions. He nodded. “It’s real,” he confirmed.

By now the others had noticed what had caused the commotion. Laila was smiling, her eyebrows raised. Drew and Jason just cast him a couple glances, inspecting the fresh ink before they started their own conversation about what groceries they needed to pick up for their dorm. They didn’t understand the significance of it like his friends did.

Alvarez laughed again. “Okay! Who wants to come with me on a cross-country road trip so I can tell every single Raven, past and present, to _suck it_?”

Laila came to stand beside her and patted her lightly on the arm. “Babe, we’re in the middle of championships. We have a game in Utah tonight.”

Alvarez waved her hand dismissively at her girlfriend. “Over the summer, than,” she compromised. Jean honestly couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “It’s too bad Riko’s dead,” she continued, which was a statement Jean vehemently disagreed with even though she followed it with, “I’d really like to get up in his stupid fucking face and tell him personally to suck my fucking—"

“ _Alvarez_ , oh my god,” Jeremy cut her off, laughing and drumming his fingers against his coffee mug.

Alvarez laughed again, and Laila sighed over-dramatically.

“I wouldn't let Riko Moriyama speak to you guys, for any reason,” Jean said, puncturing the light mood in the elevator with something more serious. Maybe he was starting to develop a protective streak of his own. “Yes, that includes the two of you,” he added, when he noticed Drew and Jason had stopped their conversation and were now staring openly at their four teammates.

Luckily Jean was spared having to say anything or deal with any of their reactions, because at that point the elevator dinged again and the doors opened in the lobby. Drew and Jason were out first, with Laila and Alvarez on their heels, and Jean followed Jeremy out last.

Jean was about to follow Jeremy out to the parking lot, but Laila was waiting for him when he stepped off, and she stopped him before he could make it more than a few steps. She reached up to turn his face to one side so she could get a good look at his tattoo, which irritated the already overly-sensitive skin in the area.

Jean made a face and smacked her hand away. “Watch it, Dermott,” he said. “This is still healing.”

“Sorry,” Laila said, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling at him and tilting her head to once side. “I like it,” she said, nodding approvingly.

“Thank you,” Jean said, glancing passed her to where Jeremy and Alvarez were waiting near the door.

“So when did you get that done?” Laila asked.

“Yesterday,” Jean told her.

“Duh,” Laila said to herself. “I guess that makes sense, considering last time I saw you was at practice and you still had a three on your face.”

Jean snorted. “True,” he said. “Use your head, Laila.”

Laila tapped her own temple with her index finger. “It’s not even six in the morning, gimme a break,” she argued. Her smile slowly faded until she was giving Jean a considering look. “So Riko’s not allowed to speak to us, huh?” She asked.

“God no,” Jean said. It was too early for this kind of conversation, but just the idea of Riko in close proximity with his friends was making him nervous. “Riko’s idea of fun is _ruining_ people. I’d never forgive myself if he…” He shook his head. Nope, better to not even think about that.

“Okay, woah,” Laila said, catching on to Jean’s discomfort and holding both her hands up between them in a placating gesture. “Riko’s dead. Remember? He’s dead and buried several thousand miles away.”

Jean nodded. It was nice to get a reminder, especially since there were still times it was hard to believe, even almost a year after his death.

“Besides,” Laila continued. “If anyone should be kept _far_ the fuck away from Riko McAsshole, it’s you.”

“He’s dead, remember?” Was Jean’s response to that. “It is a non-issue.”

Laila shrugged, and before she could continue, Alvarez was shouting at her from across the room. “Babe, c’mon! I’m gonna leave you here!” She called. Jean and Laila both looked over to see her propping the lobby door open with her hip. She beckoned them on impatiently when she caught Laila’s eye.

Laila shook her head and sighed.

“Go on. Don’t keep her waiting,” Jean said, making a shooing gesture with his hands.

Laila eyed him for a minute, but he made the first move and went around her to join their respective significant others. Laila fell into step beside him, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans as they reached the doors. Alvarez wasted no time in hooking her arm through Laila’s elbow and tugging her out the door, with Jean and Jeremy close behind. It was early enough that with the time change that had happened the week prior it was still dark outside.

Jean paused briefly before sliding into his seat in Jeremy’s car. He had the door open, but he stopped with on hand on the doorframe and another on the top of the car.

Jeremy noticed, because of course he did, because he _always_ did. “What’s up?” He asked, looking at Jean from across the roof of his car.

Jean tapped his fingers against the roof of the car and shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he said, because he honestly wasn’t sure how to tell Jeremy what was troubling him.

Jeremy raised both his eyebrows and sent an incredulous look his way. “You sure?”

Because he didn’t want to lie to Jeremy, all Jean said was, “really. It’s… stupid,” and finally slid into the passenger seat and closed the door.

“If I’m not allowed to say that, neither are you,” Jeremy chided him as he followed Jean’s lead and got into the car.

Jean wrinkled his nose. “I never said you were not  _allowed_ to say that,” he argued. “I said I didn’t think your problems were stupid.”

Jeremy just raised his eyebrows at Jean.

“Oh.” Jean nodded, realizing that the same point stood either way he put it. “Are you sure you want to know? I thought you wouldn’t even be up to conversation this early.”

“I’m always up for talking to you,” Jeremy said. He finished the last of his coffee and balanced the empty mug on the center console between the front seats, focusing his attention on Jean.

Jean eyed him for a moment, but eventually relented. “Riko is dead,” Jean started, “but his uncle isn’t.”

“Unfortunately,” Jeremy muttered.

Jean blinked. It was always just a little bit shocking hearing Jeremy say anything so bitter. “Unfortunately,” Jean agreed. “There’s still a part of me that’s afraid of him.” He waved vaguely at the side of his face, where he no longer wore a number three.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, using his 'captain voice' to make sure Jean listened to him. “That man can’t do shit to you anymore. You said it yourself, right? He can’t do anything. He can’t touch you, because of his nephew. Itchy-whatever.”

“Ichirou,” Jean corrected. He nodded. But Jeremy was right, even if Tetsuji somehow caught wind of what Jean had done, even if he did want to punish Jean somehow, he couldn’t. He remembered Neil Josten saying _we’re safe— for good_ , and for once decided to try and believe it.

“Yeah, him,” Jeremy said. “If Tetsuji wants to try any shit, I’ll fucking call Ichirou myself and tell him to come get his creepy fucking uncle out of our lives.”

Jean knew it was a hollow threat, since Jeremy would have no way of actually contacting the head of the Moriyama empire, and even if he did Jean would never let him get involved in all that. But it did manage to startle a laugh out of Jean.

Jeremy’s resulting smile was nearly enough to blind, and definitely enough to put a temporary hold on Jean’s lingering anxiety.

 

-

 

As far as anniversaries went, ‘one year away from a violently abusive student athlete/yakuza reject’ was an odd one, even Jean knew that. But still, the following Friday was March 14th, which marked exactly a year since he'd left the nest. The week leading up to the 14th happened to be midterms, so Jean didn’t realize what the date meant until he started talking to Renee between morning practice and his first class of the day. That, along with the fact that the Ravens had apparently not scored enough points during the first round of death matches to proceed any further in championships, meant he spent the rest of the day distracted. Thankfully tomorrow would be the start to USC’s spring break, so all Jean had to do was make it through one day of classes and one practice before he'd be able to take a week off and recuperate.

The good thing about spring break coming directly after midterms was that it meant none of Jean’s teachers assigned any homework. The bad news was midterms themselves, which meant an anxious Jeremy, a grumpy Laila, and too many exams. There was one good thing that came out of the week, however. Ever since last Wednesday, when Jean had covered his tattoo, Jeremy sleeping in Jean’s bed had become a regular thing.

Jean knew life wasn’t like those animated movies Jeremy liked so much, and that love wasn’t just some magical fix-it that would somehow cure him of PTSD and make everything all better, but it was a nice surprise that Jean’s nightmares had less of an effect on him with Jeremy sharing his bed. It was… the opposite of what the Nest had been like, and it was harder to get lost when he came back to reality with Jeremy in his arms and that string of lights on the ceiling.

Jean spent most of his class time on Friday zoning out entirely and barely paid attention to the tests he was taking. He was pretty sure he finished all the questions, but he couldn’t be sure when he thought back on it later.

In his defense, it was really hitting him now how his entire life had done such a massive 180 in the last 12 months. Last year he'd been convinced there was no "getting better" for someone like him, that he was a total lost cause, but now he was well underway on the path to recovery. After just surviving for so long, Jean was finally starting to actually _live_. He kept wanting to liken his new life to a dream, but every time he did he thought of Jeremy’s stupid fucking pun from a couple weeks ago and it either made him scowl deeply or grin at inappropriate times. At least that was helping to convince him that all of… _this_ was real.

It was a massive relief when Jean got out of his last class for the day and was able to meet up with Jeremy until practice started. Instead of going back to the dorm the two of them found a nice sunny spot in the grass near the edge of campus and sat together. There was a rare breeze which made it seem pleasantly warm instead of swelteringly hot like LA normally was. Jean didn’t have much to say, but luckily Jeremy could talk enough for the both of them, and Jean was okay sitting and listening to his lovely boyfriend and marveling at this life he’d been lucky enough to stumble into.

They headed off for practice, and it looked like they were some of the last ones to make it to the stadium, meaning Jeremy was unable to snag a parking space near the curb and had to park a couple rows back. All four of the Trojans coaches were having a conversation inside Rhemann’s office with the door open, and most of the team were already in the changing rooms getting ready for practice.

When Jean made it out to the inner ring, the Trojans were still filtering in around him, and most of those who were already out there were just chatting and stretching. Jeremy went over to one of the home benches to wait for everyone to show up before giving anyone any instruction and actually getting things underway. Once the whole team was accounted for, Jeremy stood up to likely start them on some laps, but he didn’t get the chance.

Rhemann appeared in the door to the locker room, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Knox, Alvarez,” he said, “I need you guys for a bit. Come on back. The rest of you, twenty minutes of laps, then set up for drills and scrimmages.”

Jean sent Jeremy a look, but Jeremy just shrugged and met up with Alvarez before following their coach back into the locker room.

“Alright, get to it,” Rhemann said, before he let the door shut behind him.

Jean stayed where he was for a minute, but he got going when Laila appeared at his side. “What do you think that was about?” She asked him, jogging next to him as they started on their laps around the court.

Jean shrugged. “I’m sure they will tell us eventually.”

Laila nodded. “Maybe they’re having a secret affair with each other.”

Jean raised one of his eyebrows and shot Laila a look. “Why would Coach have anything to do with that?”

Laila shrugged. “Fair point,” she conceded, although there was a wry smile on her face.

“Plus, aren’t they both—"

“What, gay as fuck? Yeah, true.” Laila said, shoving him lightly with her elbow as they ran side by side.

“I was going to say ‘happily in a relationship…’ But that too, I suppose,” Jean said.

“Yeah, it was a joke, Moreau, lighten up.” Laila smirked at him.

They ran the rest of the lap in relative silence, and the next two as well, but they had to stop after that. When they made it back to the home benches, Alvarez was leaning with her hip propped against the door. When she caught sight of Jean and her girlfriend, she beckoned them over. As soon as they were close enough, Alvarez grabbed both Laila and Jean by the elbow. “Come, come, come,” she said, “we need you.” She started dragging them off down the hallway.

“For what, exactly?” Jean asked, pulling his arm free of her grasp and walking alongside her.

“Super important team business,” Alvarez answered, bringing them all the way back to the team room. She sat down on the floor in the middle of the room, and patted the floor next to her.

Jean went and sat across from her, while Laila took a patch of floor beside her. “Where’s Jeremy?” He asked, glancing around the room.

“He ran out to get us Orange Julius,” Alvarez said, pulling a box out in front of her. “We can start when he gets back.”

“Start what?” Laila asked, leaning back on her arms and crossing her legs.

“So, okay,” Alvarez began. “Half of our starting line is leaving in May, right? And the other half is, well, right here,” she waved her finger in a circle to indicate herself, Laila, and Jean.

Jean thought he knew where this was going. “So, what, we’re picking next year's starters?”

“That, and we’re looking at potential new recruits,” Alvarez said with a nod.

Jean made a face and tapped his fingers against his knee. “Why would _we_ be doing that?”

Alvarez raised one eyebrow at Jean, and after a moment she turned to look at Laila. “You know him better than I do. Is he being serious?”

“Afraid so,” Laila said with a shrug. “He’s rarely not.”

“I am sitting right here,” Jean reminded them, crossing his arms impatiently.

At the point, Jeremy appeared in the hallway that lead out of the stadium, holding a drink tray with that looked like four large smoothies in it.

“Finally,” Alvarez said. “Jer, please explain to your boyfriend that we appreciate his input and like having him around.”

Jeremy gave Alvarez a puzzled look. “What’s going on?” He asked, coming to sit by the other three, between Alvarez and Jean so the four of them formed a sort of circle.

“I just asked a simple question,” Jean pointed out. “I don’t see why Laila and I are here for this. Or you two, really, for that matter,” he gestured between Alvarez and Jeremy.

Jeremy distributed the smoothies and frowned. “Well, I’m team captain, and Alvarez will be captain next year, and Coach asked us to look through files and narrow them down before he makes the final cut. And you and Laila are two very talented and experienced Exy players whose opinions we value.”

“And we wanted to bail on practice and hang out with you guys,” Alvarez said, grinning around her straw.

Jeremy shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, that too,” he admitted.

Jean decided to swallow any other protests he had. Maybe this was how other teams handled recruiting. Maybe this was normal. After all, he had no reason to think anything that happened with the Ravens was the norm. The Trojans were the most communicative and amicable team Jean had ever seen, so in a way it made sense that members of the team would vet future players and get a say in who they played with. Jean took a sip of his own smoothie, expecting to be put off by the sugar content but finding it not so bad. “Okay,” he said, sounding a bit colder than he’d intended. “So where are their files?”

Jeremy smiled at him and Alvarez pulled the lid off the box that was still sitting in front of her, turning it on its side to spill all the files it contained onto the floor between them. Alvarez took the liberty of distributing files to each of them.

Jean was about to open up the first file Alvarez handed him when Coach Rhemann walked passed them and did a double take when he spotted Laila and Jean. He stopped on his way out to the court and folded his arms. He arched one of his eyebrows and faced Jeremy. “Didn’t I _specifically_ say to let those two keep practicing?”

Jeremy grinned sheepishly, and Jean was fairly certain he and Laila were about to get marching orders, but Alvarez spoke up. “But _Coach_ ," she said plaintively, "we need their opinion!"

Laila shrugged. "At least they had the decency to sneak us back here when they thought you wouldn’t notice.”

Rhemann snorted. “Yeah, thanks for that. Gives me the illusion that anyone on this team still listens to me.”

“Exactly!” Alvarez said, plastering a wide grin onto her face.

Rhemann shook his head. “You kids are lucky it’s technically break right now and I’m too tired to deal with you,” he said, before he uncrossed his arms and continued on his way to the court, leaving the four of them where they were.

Jean was certain he would never have the courage to speak to his coach like that. Even if he knew by now that essentially everything here in LA was the polar opposite of anything he’d encountered with the Ravens, seeing an interaction like that stunned him. He watched the man disappear before Alvarez brought his attention back to the task at hand.

They spent the first ten minutes or so discussing next year’s starting lineup, but that was fairly easy to nail down. Ellie was an obvious choice for starting striker, she was one of the best the team had and could easily play full halves, and she worked best with Elliot Avez, the pair of them able to keep the ball away from the opposing team’s defense with almost artful passes and footwork. There was a bit of debate over who would play dealer; Alvarez thought Drew was the best choice, but Laila and Jean thought Nick Bryce was the right way to go. Jeremy said he saw both players’ merits, so in the end they decided to leave the final word up to Rhemann, since he’d be approving these choices anyway.

Looking at potential new recruits was more of a challenge. To no one’s surprise, Jean was the most hyper-critical of all the potential new Trojans. He didn’t think any of them were good enough, and after he rejected every single player he looked at with comments that only grew more scathing, Alvarez eventually banned him from looking at the files on his own. Jean said he could always just go back to practice if he wasn’t going to be of help to them, but all three of them insisted he stay. So Jean crossed his arms across his chest and scooted over to sit with Jeremy, reading whichever files Jeremy was looking at over his shoulder. The unhelpful criticism didn’t stop, but at least he had the ever-optimistic Captain Sunshine to balance him out.

He let some of the files slip passed for the coaches to look at, but he was pretty vehemently against a good portion of them. After what Jean assumed was somewhere between thirty minutes and an hour of this, Alvarez finally spoke up. “Okay, dude, what’s the deal? Chill out a little. These are all kids who made the cut for Class I, remember?”

Jean shook his head. “None of them are good enough to play with us,” he insisted.

Jeremy ran one of his hands through Jean’s hair and mussed it up a bit. “I think you’re being a bit too harsh here, love,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” Jean insisted, glaring at Jeremy. “You three just have no standards.”

“Maybe you should lower yours a little,” Laila said. “This isn’t the Ravens. We don’t need _perfection_.”

“No, but you need better than _this_ ,” Jean argued, gesturing to the files that were now strewn about around the four of them, putting more heat behind his words than he really wanted to.

“Oh my god, c _hill out_ ,” Alvarez said again. “You’re not being very helpful right now.”

Jean curled his lip in annoyance at her. “I _said_  I would go back to practice and you told me not to.”

Laila sighed. “Yeah, because we want you here, Jean. Even if you’re being needlessly ornery.”

“Why?” Jean snapped. “If I’m not going to be any fucking help, what is the point of being here? Just handle this yourselves.”

“Okay, hey,” Jeremy cut in, turning sideways so he could look at Jean and tilting his face up with his fingers when Jean wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What’s going on here?”

Jean set his jaw and stared at Jeremy silently, _trying_ to be annoyed that Jeremy saw right the fuck through him, just like always.

“Come on,” Jeremy said after he got sick of waiting out Jean's stony silence. “Talk to me.”

Jean flicked his eyes over to where Laila and Alvarez were watching the two of them with something that looked vaguely like concern before he looked back to Jeremy and sighed. He almost didn’t want to say it in front of the girls, but they were two of the very few people on this earth Jean trusted unequivocally, so he figured letting them in a bit wouldn’t hurt. “All of this,” he said, gesturing to the multitude of files. “We’re finding your replacement. It just reminds me that you’re _leaving_... Soon.”

They were already more than halfway through March, and after that they had the whole of April and a bit of May before Jeremy graduated. “You won’t be here next year.” Jean’s face twitched, his brows drawing together and the corners of his mouth turning down. All the anger faded from him, replaced with something like sadness with a heavy dose of exhaustion thrown in the mix. “I don’t like to think about that, how alone I’m going to be next year.” He didn’t know if he would have made it through this year had Jeremy not been there for him, and the idea of going through an entire year, _at least_ , without him around… It made his heart freeze in his chest and his throat tighten up.

Jeremy looked a little sad himself right about then. “Hey,” Jeremy said softly. “We’ll still see each other. I’ll come visit as much as I can, and it’s only a year. It’ll go by quicker than you know.”

“Except that it could be longer than a year,” Jean said. “No one knows what’s going to happen when we’re both signed.”

“I guess not,” Jeremy agreed. “But... We'll work something out.”

“And what’s all this crap about being alone?” Alvarez pitched in. “You won’t be alone. You have me and Laila, and the rest of the team.”

“Yeah,” Laila said. “You can come hang out in our dorm whenever you want. You’re family, dude.”

Jean forgot what he wanted to say and turned a wide-eyed stare at Laila, completely blindsided. “I'm _what_?”

“Oh my god,” Alvarez said, looking up at the ceiling and pursing her lips.

Laila looked over at her before turning back to Jean, managing to grin and look sad at the same time. “Holy shit, don’t do that. You’re gonna make Alvarez cry, and I’m honor-bound to beat up anyone who makes my girlfriend cry.”

“Shut up,” Alvarez said, shoving Laila’s thigh with her foot.

Laila ignored her in favor of watching Jean. “Yeah, you’re family, Moreau. You're like, the natural fourth part to our little Gay Trojans Club. It's like you fit with us, you know? It's kinda like you were supposed to be a part of our lives. The three of us,” she gestured around their little circle, “are your family. The rest of the team would be, too, if you let them.”

Jean looked back to Jeremy for confirmation. Jeremy nodded at him. “I figured you knew,” he said.

Huh. He had to think about that.

He’d been so utterly alone all his life, the idea of having a family again after his parents sold him off hadn’t even crossed his mind. On top of everything else he’d been dealing with today, this was… too much for Jean to handle at the moment. He nodded, staring at the floor, and folded himself against Jeremy’s side. Jeremy rested his chin on the top of Jean’s head and pulled him closer with an arm around Jean’s shoulders. Jean normally wasn’t a fan of such public displays of affection, but he found he didn’t mind it right now. It was just Laila and Alvarez. Just his _family_.

Wow.

“So, hey,” Jeremy said after a minute, “how about we, like, take a break and put all this away for now?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Laila agreed. “We got through enough of ‘em. We can let Coach deal with the rest over break.”

Alvarez returned all the unread files to the box, along with the ones that had gotten past the four of them, and stacked the rejects on the couch behind her. When that was done, she leaned against Laila, resting her hand on her thigh facing up until Laila placed her own hand on top and laced their fingers together.

“So,” Alvarez finally said, breaking the silence after it had stretched on for too long. “Did you guys know a group of ravens is called an ‘unkindness’?”

Jean finally looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. He recognized her attempt to change the subject and lighten the mood and appreciated it.

“Really?" Jeremy asked.

Alvarez nodded. “Yeah, for real. An _unkindness_. So, like, do you guys think that’s why Moriyama chose a raven as the mascot for his team? Because they’re just such fucking dicks?”

The other three laughed a bit at that, even Jean managing a quiet chuckle, which made Alvarez grin and successfully started leaching tension from the room.

From there, the girls managed to bring the conversation back to easier topics. They talked about break; they were all still planning on heading out to spend some time with Tanya and the others at the aforementioned beach house, but neither of them were ready to leave right away. Instead, the four of them made plans to carpool out together at some point the next day. After that Alvarez caught the other three up on gossip about basically every one of their teammates, most of which Jean didn’t care about but some of which was at least a little interesting considering these were the people he spent most of his time with.

Jean didn’t notice how much time they managed to kill, but before he knew it, the rest of the team was filtering back in from practice to head off to the showers.

“Oh shit,” Alvarez said, “is practice already over?”

Laila patted her pockets down for her phone before she remembered she had stored it in her locker with her clothes and frowned. “Looks like it,” she said.

“You guys wanna head back to the dorms now?” Jeremy asked.

Everyone agreed, and made plans to watch a movie up in Jeremy and Jean’s dorm. Laila agreed to ride back in Jeremy’s car so Alvarez could head out and pick up some takeout for dinner on the way back. After that they split up for their respective changing rooms. None of them had actually participated in practice, so they didn’t need to shower, but they’d all gotten changed into their light practice outfits, so they at least needed to change out and grab their things from their lockers before heading home. Since Jeremy had detoured to Coach Rhemann’s office to deliver the rest of the files and let him know about the line up, Jean finished up before him and went to wait out in the team room for the others. Laila was already out there, leaning against the wall to stay out of everyone else’s way, and he went to wait with her.

Laila cast a glance sideways at him. “So, _Jean Moreau_ ,” she said his name with a thick and horribly butchered attempt at a French accent.

Jean wrinkled his nose and looked back at her. “Yes, _Laila Dermott_?” He said, in an equally exaggerated American accent.

Laila snorted and smiled wryly at him. “Okay, Mr. Moreau, tell me,” she said, trying to sound serious but not entirely succeeding. “What are your intentions with my son?”

Jean raised one of his eyebrows. “Your son?”

“Jeremy,” she clarified.

Jean just accepted that. At this point he was used to odd things coming out of his teammates mouths; phrases or pop culture references he’d failed to integrate into his vocabulary thanks to spending the first decade of his life in another country and the second literally underground. “I don’t know what you mean by that,” he admitted.

Laila sighed. “Look,” she said, more serious, “I have to say this because Alvarez is too nice to, and Jeremy’s too smitten to worry about it right now.”

“So get on with it already,” Jean prompted, waving a hand at Laila to continue.

“Okay, please don’t take this personally, because you’re my friend and I love you, but Jeremy is my friend too and I’ve seen him get hurt before,” she began, moving her hands as she spoke. “So I guess I just need to know he’s not gonna get hurt again. Were you serious, before, when you guys were like, I dunno, planning your lives around each other?”

Jean tried not to feel defensive or annoyed, but there was a slight spike of it in his stomach regardless. He managed to stifle it before he responded, though. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

Laila shrugged. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I just needed to make sure you’re not leading him on.”

Jean crossed his arms over his chest and looked forward. “I’m not,” he told her, a little coldly, which he kind of regretted. It wasn’t all her fault, he could respect that she was looking out for Jeremy. (Hell, he would do whatever it took to keep Jeremy from getting hurt, too.) But the topic made him a bit uncomfortable. To spite his completely fucked up childhood and inexperience in romance, he wasn’t a total idiot. He knew most people’s first relationships didn’t work out. It was more than likely that he and Jeremy had an expiration date. “If this ends, it won’t be because of me,” he told her. At least not directly. He knew he could be selfish at times and he was probably a lot to put up with, but he was really working on it. “The last thing I want is to hurt him.”

Laila seemed to accept that. When Jean looked back at her, she was smiling at him.

“What now?” He asked.

Laila was still grinning when she answered. “Oh, nothing,” she said. “It’s just that I seem to remember back in October you were convinced nothing would ever happen between you and Jeremy.”

Jean ducked his head and gave a half-hearted shrug.“And?”

“And it’s nice,” Laila told him, to spite the fact she’d just been grilling him about his ‘intentions’ with Jeremy. “I’m happy for you.”

He was saved from having to respond when Jeremy himself joined them, and when Laila confirmed that Alvarez had already left to pick up the food, the three of them headed out of the stadium together. Laila called out something about a shotgun, which apparently meant she was claiming the front seat, so a bewildered Jean was relegated to the back of Jeremy’s car while Laila rode passenger, kicking her feet up on the dashboard.

The three of them made it back to the dorms about ten minutes before Alvarez, who showed up with several containers of Thai food. Even though most of Jeremy’s movie collection was back at his family home in Pasadena, he still had an extensive amount of DVDs in the dorm. The girls had a pretty good selection too, so they had a good deal of movies to choose from and wound up watching three different films before calling it a night at almost midnight.

Thinking back to a year ago and how things had been back then in comparison to now, Jean counted the day as a good one, and ended it feeling a strange sort of warmth inside him that was new and unfamiliar to him, but that wasn’t unpleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im such a goddamned sap. (and so is jean)
> 
> i can't believe how long this is getting. i never knew i was physically even capable of writing so much. like its a challenge for me to write 1000 word essays and here i am writing fucking 100k+ for these nerds. wowie


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> casually slides back in here after like 3 months w/ no updates. heeeeey guys what's up.
> 
> uuuhhhhh no for real tho, sorry for taking so long to update??? i have no good reason why it took me so long to post a new chapter. i can't explain it, i just lost motivation to write for like a solid two months and was writing an average of like 1.5 words per week. i hope y'all havent given up on me, this fic isn't dead i Swear !!!!
> 
> anywhomst while we're on the subject of apologies, i realize i've been doing a pretty shitty job and putting content warnings at the beginnings of chapters. i know this fic is fairly tame, but i hope i haven't missed anything that upset anyone?? i'll do better moving forward, i promise. 
> 
> along that line of thought, this chapter features, nightmares/anxiety attacks/all that mental health jazz, and mentions of the nest/what riko did to jean. (u kno, the stuff from nora's extra content post.) there's also plenty of Fluff and soft happy moments tho.
> 
> in other news, look at that, i've set a chapter number !! i might end up wrapping this up in 21, but right now it looks like the story's gonna be 22 chapters long. Holy Shit.

The next day, Jean didn’t get out of bed until well after twelve. He didn’t have any particular reason for sleeping so late, other than he fucking _could_ at this point in his life. He'd woken briefly, earlier in the morning, but he had been greeted by the sight of Jeremy sleeping beside him, the sun streaming in through the window turning his light brown skin almost golden, and that he had zapped all his motivation to move a single damned muscle. So instead he’d just shut his eyes and gone back to sleep.

When he finally did wake up for good, it was to the sound of his phone beeping at him from where he’d left it on his desk the night before. It only chimed at him once, meaning he’d only gotten a text, so he didn't make any move to get up and check it. When he opened his eyes he found Jeremy laying on his side and looking back at him. When he noticed Jean was awake, an ear-to-ear grin lit up his face. It made Jean’s stomach bottom out to think _he’d_ put that expression there.

Jean was vaguely reminded of the morning after first night they’d kissed, back at Jeremy’s house all those months ago. He’d kind of expected things to simmer down, like he’d get used to being with Jeremy, like eventually his heart would learn to keep a steady pace whenever Jeremy looked at him like that, or that his mind would remember how to function after he kissed him. But it really hadn't; he was still as stupidly gone for Jeremy as he had been back in December. If anything, it was worse now, because this was turning into something _real_ between them.

“What are you looking at?” Jean managed, because he had to say something.

“You,” Jeremy responded simply. “You’re pretty.”

“Hush,” Jean said, hiding his face in his hand under the guise of scrubbing sleep from his eyes.

Jeremy laughed, bringing his hand up to comb Jean’s bangs off his forehead. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” Jeremy said, “and I _don’t_ want to. Because I love you and I want you to know it.”

This time Jean stuck his hand in Jeremy’s face, covering his mouth with his palm. “Stop it,” he said. “You are not allowed to say things like that this early. I’m not prepared for it.”

Jeremy laughed, so Jean pulled his hand back. “Did you know your accent is stronger when you first wake up?”

“To me, you are the one with the accent,” Jean countered.

Jeremy laughed again, which was still one of Jean's favorite sounds. “Do I sound more American when I’m sleepy?” He asked.

“A bit, yes,” Jean said, shrugging one of his shoulders.

Jeremy scooched over until he was sharing Jean’s pillow and pressed a light kiss to the bridge of Jean’s nose, right where Jean knew there were three faint scars left over from the night of Kengo’s death. “You’re so cute,” he said.

“What did I just say?” Jean said, frowning. “None of that this early in the morning.”

Jeremy grinned and propped himself up on one of his elbows. “Uh, technically it’s not even that early. It’s like, after noon at this point.”

Jean frowned and scooted up to a sitting position, running his hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy from sleep. “You are a terrible influence on me,” Jean told him. “I never slept this late in my life before I came to California.”

Jeremy scoffed. “You call it a terrible influence, I’d say it’s the opposite. Let’s be real, when did you _ever_ get enough sleep in the Nest?”

Jean didn’t have an answer to that, and Jeremy had no problem interpreting his silence. Jean had told him about the Raven's 16-hour days pretty early on.

“That’s what I thought,” Jeremy said, sitting up himself. “I told you, like, the first week you got here, Jean. I’m not gonna enable any unhealthy Raven habits.”

Jean didn’t really have an argument for that, and he didn’t want to argue it, either. He was starting to accept that maybe constantly running himself ragged wasn’t the only way to live. Maybe there wasn’t actually anything inherently wrong with sleeping late and eating needlessly sugary food every once and awhile. So, he just shrugged in silent concession, and climbed out of bed. He went over to his desk and pulled his phone off its charger so he could check who had texted him. It turned out that he had missed not one, but seven, texts, all from the girls. Three were from Alvarez and four from Laila.

He looked up to comment on the girls nagging persistence, but Jeremy had already left the room to get ready, so he just ducked his head and sat in his desk chair to read the messages. For the most part, they were just messages wanting to know when they would be meeting up and leaving campus. And since it was Laila and Alvarez just one text hadn’t sufficed, so Jean essentially got the same message seven different times in varying ways.

He didn’t answer them right away and instead returned his phone to his desk so he could get ready for the day. He dug through the closet to find some clean clothes and checked to make sure the bathroom was empty, and when it was he locked himself in to take a quick shower and get ready. It had been almost two weeks since he’d gotten his tattoo covered, and by now it was essentially completely healed. He probably didn’t need to do it anymore, but Jean still rubbed some Aquaphor on top of the little sun after he got out of the shower anyways.

It was weird, looking at his reflection and not finding any new cuts or bruises anywhere. Well, no, that wasn’t true; he did have a few lingering bruises, but Exy was a violent sport and it was impossible to play without acquiring at least a few of those. But even the number of Exy-related injuries Jean sustained was down considerably. The Trojans were such good sports that even their rivals toned down the violence when playing against them. Jean hadn't even had a yellow card in weeks. It was also apparently impossible to date Jeremy Knox without getting a few marks up and down his neck, but those were pretty much the opposite of the bruises he used to get.

His hair was even growing evenly again after Riko had ripped so much of it out last year. He also thought it looked lighter after spending so much time in the sun. Or maybe it just looked lighter now that his skin didn’t look so ghostly pale all the time, again a consequence of being out in daylight for extended periods of time. Although, admittedly he still looked pretty pale when compared to Laila or Alvarez or even Jeremy.

The shirt he dressed in wasn’t actually his, but Jeremy borrowed Jean’s clothes often enough he figured Jeremy wouldn’t mind if he returned the favor. When Jean finally left the bathroom, he found Jeremy sitting on the couch between Laila and Alvarez. Jean stopped in the middle of the room and arched an eyebrow. “One day I will learn to stop being surprised to find you two in my apartment,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The girls both turned and spotted him. “If you picked up your phone we could’ve told you we were coming,” Alvarez said.

Jean shrugged, crossing the room to sit in the armchair by the window. Laila leaned forward on the couch to look around Jeremy and Alvarez at Jean. “You know,” she said, cocking her head to one side. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a T-shirt outside of, like, practice,” she commented. “I didn’t even think you owned anything short-sleeved.”

Jean instinctively looked down at the shirt he was wearing, shrugging again, but he folded his arms across his stomach. “I don’t,” he said. “This one is Jeremy’s.”

Jeremy turned to look him over at that. “Oh,” he said, his eyebrows tilting up a little. “So it is.”

“Figures,” Alvarez said, flicking a glance at Laila. “Jean would never buy an item of clothing in canary yellow.”

It was true that Jean never really wore anything this brightly colored. But it had been the only T-shirt that looked like it would fit Jean properly. “I hope you don’t mind I borrowed it,” Jean said to Jeremy, ignoring Alvarez.

Jeremy shook his head. “Nope, not at all,” he said, grinning. “It looks good on you. You should just keep it, honestly.”

Jean didn’t think he’d wear it enough to warrant that, but he just nodded anyway. People tended to have a lot to say when they saw the scars Jean had on his arms, and it was easier just to hide them. Although, Jean wasn’t sure if he could survive another California summer wearing nothing but long sleeves, so maybe he should just learn to deal with the prying.

Laila rolled her eyes. “Okay, flirt on your time,” she said. “We have things to do today.”

Jean resisted the urge to roll his own eyes in return, but Jeremy just laughed. “I can do both,” Jeremy said. “I’m a stellar multitasker.”

Jean couldn’t stifle all of a laugh, which he could tell surprised all three of his teammates judging by the looks they sent his way. It was weird, Jean had never really had anything to laugh about before the Trojans, but now there were times when he couldn’t fucking help himself.

“See, you say that,” Alvarez eventually said, turning to Jeremy. “And yet, here we are just sitting around.”

Jean favored Alvarez with a searching look, leaning back in his chair. “Even I think it’s unnatural how much of a morning person as you are.”

“It’s not even morning! It’s almost one in the afternoon!” Alvarez objected, throwing her hands up.

“Ookay,” Laila cut in. “This could go on forever. When are we leaving?” She asked the room at large.

It took Jean a minute to remember where they were leaving to, that they’d planned to drive out to Malibu at some point today. Jean just looked to Jeremy, because it wasn’t something he’d considered.

“I dunno,” Jeremy said. “Give us a bit to get ready.”

Laila nodded. “Fair enough. Babe, let’s go get lunch and pick them up when we’re done,” she said to Alvarez.

“Oh, yeah, sounds good.” Alvarez nodded, hopping off the couch. “We’ll be back in an hour,” she informed them.

The girls got up and left, closing the door behind them, but Jean made no move to get up. Jeremy did, however. He came to perch on the arm of Jean’s chair. “I mean, it’s a year too late, but I’m glad you’ve finally started taking my advice about proper Cali attire.” He grabbed both of Jean’s hands with his and locked their fingers together. “Feel free to borrow my shirts anytime you want, by the way,” Jeremy said, grinning. “You have great arms.”

Jean frowned, but he didn’t want to argue, so he just stood up and pulled Jeremy up with him. “Come on, _mon petit soleil_ , let’s go pack.”

“ _Little_ sun?” Jeremy said indignantly. “I am not _little_. I’m five-seven. That’s average height, Jean.” He complained.

Jean actually managed to laugh at that, for the second time this morning. “That is... not how I meant it. But to be fair, you are small compared to me.”

“That’s because you’re, like, outrageously tall,” Jeremy said, but he was grinning now as he followed Jean into the bedroom to get ready for their trip.

 

-

 

The girls arrived back at the dorm around two to pick them up, and they all filed out into the hall, Jeremy locking the door behind him and stuffing his keys into his bag on the way down the stairs. They all piled into Alvarez’s powder blue Jeep, and Alvarez rolled all the windows all the way down and turned the radio way up before pulling out of the mostly-empty parking lot.

Jean had ridden with Alvarez once or twice before, but that was only on short trips to and from campus or the stadium. When they got out of the congestion of downtown LA, it turned out Alvarez was a fucking demon and tore down the coastal highways at alarmingly high speeds. Jean was frightened for all of two seconds before he realized how free he felt with the wind blowing through the car and the ocean racing by at his side. It was too noisy to make conversation, but it was only about an hour drive up the coast to their destination. Jean spent that time with his arm hanging out the open window watching the California scenery pass by.

He almost didn’t want the ride to end, but the way Alvarez drove they got their in under 45 minutes. The house they were to be staying in for the break was extravagantly large, especially for a so-called vacation property. The last time Jean saw someone with that much extra money they were a Moriyama, but he forcibly shoved that though aside and followed his friends out of the car and up to the front porch.

There were already quite a few people there: Sarah, Ellie, Drew, Jason, Toby, Tanya, and four players from the lacrosse team whose names Jean immediately forgot as soon as he learned them. One of them owned the house (or his parents did) but Jean didn’t even care enough to remember which one that was. He’d never communicate with them nor probably even see them again after this trip, so he didn’t care enough to interact with them now.

As soon as Jeremy was done socializing, Jean dragged him off to find a room to claim for the duration of their stay. They barely even had time to get settled in before Laila and Alvarez appeared in the doorway. They’d lost their bags in the span of the last few minutes, but Alvarez had gained a wide grin. “You two, come on. We’re going to the beach.”

Jean didn’t see any reason to protest, so he followed Alvarez and Laila to the living room and out the sliding glass door which opened up directly on the beach, snagging Jeremy’s hand on the way by. They’d just walked onto the back porch of the beach house when Laila caught Jean’s attention.

“Yeah,” she was saying, “Alvarez is going to teach us how to surf. Tanya says there’s a surf shop down the beach a little ways.”

“Alvarez can surf?” Jeremy asked, at the same time Jean stopped dead in his tracks, pulling his hand free again.

“Oh,” Jean said. “No thank you.”

Jeremy stopped first when he felt Jean tug his hand free, and the girls noticed the holdup a few seconds later, turning back towards the boys. Alvarez wrinkled her nose and frowned. “What?” She said. “Why not?”

Jean stared out over their heads at the ocean. It was a lovely blue, calmer than he’d ever seen the sea, and honestly looked quite inviting. He didn’t mind the beach, but he wouldn’t willingly go into open waters. “I don’t like… Swimming,” he said, “or anything like that." He waved his hand out towards the sea. "Deep water. It’s not for me.”

“Jean, you live in _Cali_ ,” Alvarez protested. “How can you not like swimming? The ocean’s so nice today.”

Jean glanced around him, but they were the only ones out on the deck and there wasn't anyone within earshot on the beach. He was sure he could give them any generic excuse and they’d leave him be, but he’d fallen into the habit of being honest with his friends and he didn’t want to stop. “When you’ve been waterboarded you kind of lose any interest in swimming,” he told them, aiming for nonchalance and shrugging his shoulders half-heartedly.

Jean could tell his blasé tone didn’t help soften the blow. He didn't realize until after he'd said it how bad that had to sound to someone who didn’t grow up in Evermore with Riko. The look Alvarez sent his way was horrified, and the stormy look Laila cast him was almost as bad as the blank look that passed over Jeremy’s face.

It was Laila who found her voice first. “What the fuck, Jean,” she said. It didn’t sound like a question, so Jean didn’t waste his breath coming up with an answer. She seemed okay with that. “No, seriously, _what the fuck_. That’s illegal. Like, _crazy_ illegal.”

Jean snorted. Of all the things she could’ve said, that was probably the most ridiculous. “Laila, do you really think anything Riko did to me was _legal_?”

“Okay, but like, that’s not even legal in those shady-ass military prisons and shit,” Laila said. “I’m pretty sure waterboarding is like a war crime or something,” she was practically fuming at this point. Jean hated that, putting his friends in such a bad mood.

Jean thought that Laila probably didn’t have all her facts straight, but he didn’t know enough about the subject to contradict her, so he just sighed. “Dermott, you don’t have to tell me how fucked up it was, alright?. Believe me, I already know,” he said, crossing his arms and scuffing the deck with his shoe.

That shut her up, but she still looked angry enough to set something on fire with her glare alone.

“Jean,” Jeremy started, and Jean bit his bottom lip and shut his eyes.

“Just drop it, okay?” Jean said. “I didn't mean for this to turn into a big thing.”

Alvarez made a high pitched noise. “Didn’t mean for it to be a big thing, he says.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Jesus Christ, kiddo.” She shook her head at Jean.

“Please,” Jean said, desperate to change the subject. “Just forget about it. Go surfing and have fun, okay?”

Laila flicked him on the forehead with her thumb and forefinger. Jean turned and raised his eyebrows at her, incredulous. “Shut up, oh my god,” she said. “We care about you, so you can’t just say something that upsetting and expect us to just ignore it.”

Jean didn’t know what to say to that. He looked at Laila until he couldn’t anymore, and then he turned to Jeremy, and felt his heart clench unpleasantly. Jeremy still had that dead look on his face, like he’d just had the world knocked out from under him.

“Please,” Jean tried again. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

Jeremy finally snapped back to reality, focusing on Jean. His brow creased together, but he nodded, and Jean felt a bit of tension leave his shoulders. “Yeah,” Jeremy said. “C’mon, guys, it’s spring break. Let’s just have fun.”

Laila folded her arms across her chest. “Fine,” she said, although she didn’t sound happy about it.

“So, hey,” Alvarez said. “Tanya and Blake say there’s this cute little frozen yogurt place down near the surf shop, you guys wanna go?”

“You guys don’t have to cancel your plans because of me,” Jean protested. “I don’t mind if you three want to go to the ocean.”

Alvarez scowled at him. “What we do isn't the point, Frenchy. The point is all four of us hanging out together.”

Jean almost felt like arguing, but really the had no reason to, so he just nodded.

“Good,” Alvarez said. “If that’s settled, let’s go.” She spun around and hopped down all four steps onto the white sand and started off, not even checking to make sure anyone was following her. They all were, but Jean still shook his head as he headed after her. He tried to take Jeremy’s hand again, but Jeremy didn’t seem to want to settle for just holding hands and plastered himself close to Jean’s side, pulling Jean’s arm over his shoulders and wrapping his own arm around Jean’s waist.

The four of them spent the rest of the day on the beach ( _not_ in the ocean. Just on the beach itself) and with the sun out and a slight breeze, it was, all in all, very pleasant.

 

-

 

The next few days were uneventful but nice nonetheless. Jean did his best to avoid as much interaction with everyone else who was spending their break in the house, but he couldn’t avoid the other Trojans forever. He supposed he didn’t mind that since he was that he was able to at least avoid the lacrosse team pretty effectively. They seemed just as keen to avoid him as he was to avoid them, which Jean had no problem with. He already had people in his life that he cared for deeply, and he didn’t need or want to make small-talk with random strangers he’d likely never see again.

On Monday, Jean was introduced to drinking games when a couple of his teammates persuaded him to join in. Or, more accurately, sit and watch while Jeremy, Laila, Alvarez, Toby, Ellie, and Sarah all got plastered doing dumb shit. Either way, it was an entertaining way to spend an evening. The next night everyone got together and had a massive bonfire on the beach. Jean wasn’t sure if that was strictly legal, but nobody came to stop them so he didn’t really care.

Perhaps the only downside to the whole vacation was that Jean had trouble sleeping at night. Something about being under the same roof with so many people, without even a lock on the bedroom door, meant Jean’s anxious paranoia kept him up. He had a hard time falling asleep, and when he finally did drift off it was restless and he woke often. He knew, logically, that nothing would happen, but ten years in the Nest with the Ravens had taught Jean never to let his guard down. No matter how hard he tried, those mental scars hadn’t quite healed enough to let Jean get a good night’s sleep over break.

Wednesday was a particularly rough night. Jean was no stranger to nightmares, but thanks to exhaustion and anxiety the one he had that night was _vicious_. It was weird; back in the Nest, the nightmares hadn’t bothered him so much. He’d still gotten them, but Riko was a nightmare his unconscious mind couldn’t even try to compete with. When his waking hours were already hellish, his dreams had paled in comparison.

But now that he was out, now that he had a life worth fighting for in California, now that he had something to lose, his dreams could get… _nasty_ , leaving him with his heart in the back of his throat and spending a solid few minutes trying to force air back into his lungs.

It was just passed 3:00 AM on what was technically Thursday morning when Jean was jolted out of his dreams by the weight of a hand on his shoulder. It was instinct to retreat from the threat, but for several, panic-stricken seconds, Jean was positive he was back in the Nest, surrounded by darkness and fear and—

He came back to reality about the same moment his left shoulder and the back of his head collided with the wall behind him with a loud and painful _smack_. He would’ve cursed, but he was still fighting to remember how to breathe after being awakened so suddenly. He blinked rapidly, trying to bring his surroundings back into focus to clear at least some of the residual panic away.

“Shit,” Jeremy said, and Jean’s system flooded with relief at the sound of his voice. It was just Jeremy, not Riko, or any other Raven. “Shit, Jean, oh my god, are you okay?”

Jean still couldn’t quite breathe well enough to answer, so he just nodded, even though his shoulder was throbbing with pain after taking the brunt of the blow. He’d have some bruising in the morning.

Jean finally managed to get a breath, and he opened his eyes to look over at Jeremy. Jeremy was sitting on top of the covers facing Jean, staring at him with wide, concerned eyes. The nearly-full moon shining in through the window was providing enough light for Jean to see Jeremy’s face clearly.

The next breath Jean got was deep and rattling, and it wasn’t until then that he realized his entire body was being wracked with tremors. He really wished it really do that. His breakdowns were always so obvious, his body betraying every bit of weakness and pain he felt. It didn’t used to be like this. He used to be so good at locking it all up inside himself, clamping down and keeping anything he felt hidden. But he supposed back in the Nest he’d had to stow _anything_ he felt away, pretend it didn’t exist, in order to survive. He guessed it was sort of an all-or-nothing deal. In order to get the good (and things could be _really_ good here in LA) he had to take the bad.

He wished for a second his breakdowns and anxiety attacks could look more like Jeremy’s; quiet, more just like a bit of exhaustion, and almost impossible to detect to those who didn’t know him well. But he thought that might be a bit insensitive. Jean looked down at his hands and clenched them tightly into fists to try and stop the shaking. He still had to struggle for each breath.

Yeah, _bad_ dream.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, drawing Jean’s attention back to him. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Jean nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice coming out just as shaky as his body. “I’m— I’m alright.”

Jeremy reached his hand out towards Jean, slow enough that he could stop him if he needed to. He didn’t, so Jeremy carded his fingers through Jean’s hair and slid his fingers down until he could examine Jean’s shoulder where it’d hit the wall. Jean still felt like his heart was trying to beat it’s way straight out of his ribs, but he relaxed into the touch, the warmth from Jeremy’s skin radiating all throughout his body and chasing the tension from his muscles.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t mean— I mean, I just had to wake you up. I didn’t think you’d… y’know.”

Jean nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s fine, really,” he said. “It was a shitty dream, I’m glad you woke me.” The relief he felt at being back in reality was enough to make him dizzy.

Jeremy chewed on his lower lip, but he still looked pretty much out of his mind with worry. Jean wasn’t sure if he was worried Jean was hurt, or about what had happened before he woke Jean.

“How did you know?” Jean asked, slumping back against the wall now that the adrenaline and anxiety were fading. “How could you tell I was having a nightmare? I thought I was quiet when I dream.”

“Well, yeah, normally I can never tell unless you tell me,” Jeremy shrugged. “But, I dunno, it was different tonight.”

Jeremy didn’t elaborate, and Jean didn’t ask him to. He didn’t really want to know what Jeremy meant by that; he just hoped… whatever the fuck he’d been doing hadn’t been loud enough to wake anyone besides Jeremy. “Okay,” was all Jean could really say. “Well. Thank you for waking me.”

“No problem,” Jeremy said. “I don’t like seeing you hurting like that.” Jeremy looked down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. Jean watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted his space right now or if he wanted to pull Jeremy as close as he physically could and stay like that forever. “What were you dreaming about?” Jeremy finally asked, which got Jean’s attention back up to his face.

Jean gave a weak shrug. It was hard to get the words out, and part of him didn’t want to, but it was right there, vivid and fresh in Jean’s memory. “Riko,” Jean said, even though that probably went without saying. Most of the hurt in Jean’s life lead back to Riko fucking Moriyama. “It was just the usual. Going back to the Nest.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Jeremy said. “That really sucks.”

“Mhm,” Jean nodded in agreement, because there wasn’t much else he could do.

“Well... Just know you never have to go back there. Like, seriously, if anyone ever tried to take you back, they’d have to get through me first.” Jeremy told him, raising his eyebrows almost defiantly. “Seriously,” he went on. “There is absolutely no way in Hell I would ever let _anyone_ take you back there.”

“Yeah,” Jean said, putting forward his best attempt at a smile. “I know that,” he looked away from Jeremy, staring instead at the way the moonlight coming in through the slits in the blinds left stripes of light along the opposite wall. “It’s just…” He couldn’t quite finish his sentence, so he let himself trail off.

“Just what?” Jeremy asked, like Jean figured he would.

Jean sighed. “It was different. It was— you didn’t feel like that in the dream,” he confessed, mumbling because he hated saying it.

“Hey,” Jeremy said softly, framing Jean’s face with his hands. “It was just a dream, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jean agreed, his voice hollow. “Just a dream.”

Jeremy rubbed at Jean’s cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes searching. “Love,” he said, “what is it?”

Jean wasn’t sure if he should be thankful for Jeremy’s perceptiveness or curse it. As much as he didn’t want to continue with this topic, part of him needed to. “When you found out… What had happened in the Nest, what Riko had done to me—“

“Jean,” Jeremy said, cutting him off before he could finish his thought, likely guessing where Jean was headed with that. “Nothing that _he_ did will ever change how I feel about you. For real, you _have_ to know that.”

Jean struggled to find his voice again. “You can’t be sure of that,” he managed, meeting Jeremy’s eyes even though it was difficult right now. Even though he wanted to believe Jeremy, hadn’t he been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Renee told him Riko was dead almost a year ago? _Jean_ could hardly deal with his past himself, so part of him didn’t expect Jeremy to be able to either.

“Yes, I can,” Jeremy said, sounding so damn sure of himself. He could be so fucking stubborn sometimes. “I’m, like, two-thousand percent sure that there’s absolutely nothing you could tell me that would make me walk away from you.”

Jean sighed and gave his head a slight shake. He grabbed Jeremy’s wrists so he could pull his hands away from his face. “Really?” He said, inwardly annoyed at how plaintive the word came out. He shut his eyes and frowned. Jeremy could make all the promises he wanted, but they were hollow until he knew the truth. Jean had shared bits and pieces of his life in the Nest with Jeremy, but there was so much he still hadn’t. He was pretty much positive that if Jeremy had gotten to know him even six months earlier than he did, he wouldn’t have even _liked_ Jean, much less loved him. “What if I said that almost every night Riko would handcuff me to my bed so I couldn’t fight back when he used his knives? Or that, thanks to him, I’ve probably had upwards of 300 stitches at this point.”

Every breath Jean took felt like it was going to shake him apart. Or maybe that was just his fragile mental state. “Or that he thought it was funny to have me break my own fingers, because he knew it would hurt more. Or that when he found out I liked boys, he started ordering the older Ravens to— to come into my bed at night. Or that when Neil Josten came to the Nest for Christmas break, Riko would have me hold him down while he cut him to bloody fucking ribbons. Or,” he paused for a second, trying to catch a breath that didn’t rattle him. “That the first time I tried to kill myself I was fifteen years old, and I honestly can’t remember how many times I’ve tried since then.”

Jean finally had to stop after that. The last time he’d talked about any of this, with Jess at the beginning of the year, he’d had a three-day breakdown. This time he just felt his lungs constricting, but he didn’t think he felt an actual panic attack coming. “And, god, Jeremy, that’s barely scraping the surface. There’s so many more bruises and broken bones and— it would take me hours, days, I don’t know, to tell you everything. Riko took _everything_ from me, and even when I had nothing left he still found things to take.”

He gave his head a jerky little shake and finally opened his eyes. When he did, he swore his heart literally lurched in his chest and his stomach did a weird little flip before bottoming out entirely. Jeremy was staring at him with the saddest expression on his face. He honestly looked on the verge of tears, and Jean had absolutely no idea how to handle that. “ _Merde_ , wait,” Jean said, because what the fuck else could he say? “I— no, I’m sorry—”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy said, cutting Jean off. “Jesus, don’t… Don’t apologize, please.” He looked more distressed than Jean had ever seen him, and for a moment Jean was terrified that he’d been right; that it really would be too much for Jeremy to handle. For a split second Jean wished he could take it all back.

Jean bit down on his lip. “I— I upset you,” he said.

“No! Well, okay, yeah, I’m upset,” Jeremy said. “But please don’t— Look, I’m glad you told me. I really am. I’m glad you feel like you can trust me with that. It’s just, y’know,” he gestured weakly with one hand. “It’s just fucked up! It’s fucked up, and it’s really unfair that all of that happened to you.”

Jeremy dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, letting out a long breath. Jean watched him, not sure if he should say anything right now.

Jeremy dropped his hands to his thighs and curled his fingers into loose fists. “You don’t even know how glad I am that you’re here now, and that Riko Moriyama is fucking dead,” he said.

Jean swallowed. “That makes two of us,” he mumbled in agreement.

“Is that bad?” Jeremy asked. “I mean, is it bad that I’m _glad_ a person is _dead_? Like… Is that fucked up?”

“No,” Jean said instantly and earnestly. “The day Renee told me he was dead was the happiest day of my life at the time. Riko thought rape and torture were funny. He ruined people’s lives for _fun_. That’s not the type of person who deserves any type of respect, even post-mortem.”

Jeremy nodded, biting his lower lip. “Yeah,” he said, “you’re right. I just,” he shrugged. “I just wish I could’ve gotten to you sooner.”

Jean huffed, focusing on a patch of wall over Jeremy’s shoulder. Even in the middle of the night, the illumination for the moon outside coming in through the blinds was easily enough to see by. There was always light to be found out here in California. “That… would have been nice.”

“But, hey, at least you’re here now, right?” Jeremy said. “And to answer your question, I was right. Nothing you just told me changes how I feel about you.”

Jean instantly turned back to Jeremy, searching his face for any hint that he didn’t mean it and finding none. Jean didn’t know how anyone could have a heart as big as Jeremy did, but he was thankful for it regardless. “Jeremy…” Jean said, and then, because he suddenly couldn’t stand the distance between them, he pulled Jeremy into a deep and almost desperate kiss. His heart was beating fast when he pulled away, but this time it wasn’t such a bad feeling.

“Jeremy. I love you, okay? I love you so goddamned much, I don't even know how to tell you. I want to say I’m hopelessly fucking in love with you, but being with you is one of the first things that’s given me any hope in years, so I don’t think that makes sense.” He was pretty sure he was starting to ramble, but that didn’t matter. He felt like he needed to say all of this right the fuck now, because he couldn’t handle Jeremy not knowing for even another second. “You mean so much more to me than I can even properly put into words. You… You make me feel safe,” he concluded with, gripping at the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt so he could keep him close.

“Jean,” Jeremy said, with a lot of feeling even though he said it at barely above a whisper. “Jean, I love you too, so fucking much.”

He didn’t get the option to say much more, because Jean was pressing their lips together again the next second. He loosened his grip on Jeremy’s shirt, flattening out his palms so he could map out Jeremy’s chest, because he felt like he couldn’t get close enough to Jeremy right now, and because he _wanted_ to. After that there was just a lot of kissing, and the rest of the world fell away.

By the time they finally got to sleep, Jean was pretty sure the sun would be rising soon, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he drifted off, happy and peaceful, with Jeremy in his arms.

 

-

 

The next morning, Jean woke up still tangled in Jeremy’s arms. In the first bleary moments where he was still half-asleep, he pulled Jeremy closer and buried his face against his neck. He must have woken Jeremy, because Jeremy’s grip on him tightened as well.

“Good morning,” Jeremy mumbled against his hair. Jean could swear he heard a smile in his voice.

Jean hummed a non-descriptive response into the crook of Jeremy’s neck.

Jeremy laughed, running his fingers through Jean’s hair. “Still sleepy?” He asked.

Jean kind of _was_ , but now that he was up he didn’t want to go back to sleep. He just wanted to lay there with Jeremy. “No,” he said, finally pulling back out of Jeremy’s space and laying his head back on his pillow so he could see Jeremy.

“Sure about that?” Jeremy said, and sure enough he was wearing one of those soft smiles that still sent Jean’s heart into a tailspin.

“I’m not the one who sleeps in until noon every weekend,” Jean reminded him.

That earned him another laugh from Jeremy. “Okay, fair enough.”

Jean couldn’t help but smile back at him, and for once he didn’t try to stifle or hide it, and actually just let himself smile for real. He didn’t feel like he had to hide anything from Jeremy, which was a little frightening, but in a good way. He also kind of liked the way it made Jeremy’s entire face light up. (Okay, he really liked it, actually.) He’d honestly thought any ability to feel anything like he felt right now had been beaten out of him years ago.

Jean would’ve been happy to just stay in that moment forever, comfortable and happy and bathed in the light Jeremy radiated. But the world had other plans, because Jean was snapped out of it by a quick knock on the door and a second later the door opened a crack and Alvarez poked her head in.

“Heeeey,” she said. “You guys decent?”

Jeremy laughed, sitting up. “Come on in,” he told her.

Alvarez beamed, and opened the door further so she and Laila could pile into the room, both of them still in pajamas. Laila gently shut the door behind her and leaned against, but Alvarez came to sit at the end of the bed, crossing her legs. After a moment Laila came and joined her, flopping down face-first onto the bed right over Alvarez’s folded legs, her dark curls splaying out around her head like a mane. Jean found himself chuckling under his breath.

“Uh, you okay there, Laila?” Jeremy asked.

Laila groaned in response, which made Alvarez grin and ruffle her hair. “You guys wanna do something?”

“Right now?” Jeremy said, making a face, which only made Jean smile again. “It’s so _early_ , though,” he complained.

“Yeah, well,” Laila said, “We can’t be in our room right now.”

“Why not?” Jean asked.

“Sarah’s room is next to ours,” Alvarez said, like that explained anything at all. Which it didn't. Luckily, she continued a moment later. “And she’s currently hooking up with Toby. Very loudly.”

“These walls are not thick,” Laila added grimly.

"Seriously?" Jeremy turned and checked the clock hanging on the opposite wall and frowned. “It’s ten in the morning,” he said.

“Right?” Alvarez agreed, raising her eyebrows.

“Alright,” Laila said, sitting up and sliding off the bed. “I’m gonna make some coffee. You guys should come with.” She held out her hand, and Alvarez took it, letting Laila pull her off the bed again.

Jean exchanged a look with Jeremy and shrugged, so the pair of them followed the girls up out of the room, all four of them still wearing pajamas. It was early enough that when they got out to the main room, they were the only ones out there, and aside from Tanya and her boyfriend sitting out on the deck, Jean assumed everyone else was still asleep. Laila barely knew her way around the kitchen, but after a few minutes of stumbling around she found everything she needed to brew a pot of coffee. She handed the pot to Alvarez, who filled it with water in the sink.

Without missing a beat or even looking at each other Alvarez handed the pot back, and even though it was such a simple task Jean was a little impressed by how in-sync the pair of them were. It was a type of synchronicity that would’ve turned the Ravens green with envy, but at the same time, Jean could find absolutely no way to compare them two of them to the Ravens in any capacity. That type of synchrony only came from trust and deep understanding.

Jeremy hopped up onto the counter while Laila got the coffee brewing. Jean leaned against the counter just beside him, looking up at Jeremy and not stifling the smile on his face. Jeremy beamed right back at him and Jean wondered, not for the first time, how he got lucky enough to stumble into this life.

Alvarez settled against her girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her waist while they waited for the coffee to finish, a comfortable silence settling in the kitchen. After a few minutes the coffee pot dinged to signal it’s readiness, and they settled around the kitchen clutching mugs. Jeremy and the girls had of course added caramel-flavored creamer and sugar, but Jean settled for a bit of milk and sugar in his.

“So, hey,” Jeremy said, still seated up on the counter. He was using one of his hands to hold his cup, but the other had strayed up to play with Jean’s hair. “Is there anything that I’ve baked these past few months that you liked? Or are you still, like, a total health nut?”

Jean made a face and shrugged. For the past several months he’d been learning that maybe sweet things weren’t so bad, but he still preferred to keep his intake to a minimum. His life still literally depended on his athleticism, after all. “I liked that cheesecake you made. With the strawberries on top.”

Jeremy nodded, grinning at the memory. “Oh, yeah, that was good,” he agreed.

“Okay, hey. New rule,” Alvarez said. “From now one, whenever you bake cheesecakes, you have to _share_ ,” she insisted.

Jeremy laughed, and Jean rolled his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“For Friday,” Jeremy answered. “I wanted to do _something_.”

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Laila asked, before Jean could say anything, from where she was leaning against Alvarez’s side.

“Uh,” Jeremy said, casting a look over at Jean.

Jean just shrugged. “It’s the twenty-first,” he said, sending the girls what he hoped was a perfectly blank look. “My birthday,” he elaborated.

Laila almost choked on her coffee. “Dude, what the fuck,” she said around a watery cough.

“A little warning would’ve been nice!” Alvarez added.

“I should’ve mentioned,” Jeremy said, squeezing Jean’s shoulder with the hand that had previously been carding through his hair. “They’re both pretty hardcore about birthdays.”

Jean looked from Jeremy to the girls. “You are not allowed to make a big deal out of it,” Jean told them, giving them his best death glare, even though it had stopped working on them months ago. “I mean it.”

“You are no fun _at all_ ,” Alvarez complained, frowning at him.

Jean shrugged. “That should not be news to any of you.”

“Hey,” Jeremy protested, shoving lightly at Jean's shoulder. “I have fun with you.”

“That doesn’t count,” Alvarez insisted. “You’re Jeremy. You could have fun at a root canal. And he’s your boyfriend, so you’re required to have fun with him.”

“Anyway,” Laila said, before the conversation got further derailed. “That’s not the point.” She shifted her gaze to Jean, pinching her brows together. “Are we at least allowed to get you presents? Or, like, cake?”

“Jeremy’s already making cheesecake,” Jean reminded her.

“Okay, fine,” Laila said. “But what about presents?”

Jean thought about that. No one had ever really given him gifts before. But the Trojans were always giving each other things. “If you must,” he said warily. “Nothing big.”

“Killjoy,” Alvarez muttered, but Laila just smiled. “Y’know what, wait here,” Alvarez said. She set her mug on the counter and untangled herself from Laila so she could slip out of the kitchen.

“Where is she going?” Jean asked, slightly wary.

Laila shrugged. “Who knows?” She said in response, grinning at Jean. "The woman is mystery even to me sometimes."

Jean eyed her, still feeling slightly wary, but Alvarez returned a moment later. She was holding a bundle of light purple fabric, which she thrust into Jean’s arms. “Here,” she said. “Early birthday present.”

Jean inspected what he’d been given, and gave Alvarez and incredulous look. “I will never understand why a group of people living in such a warm region of the country own so many sweaters,” he said.

Alvarez shrugged. “It’s a part of the gay experience to own at least ten sweaters,” she informed him.

“ _I_ don’t own ten sweaters,” Jean told her.

“Which is _exactly_ why we keep giving you new ones,” Alvarez explained, sharing a look with Laila that said this should be obvious.

That actually drew a small chuckled out of Jean. “Thank you?” He said.

“You’re welcome,” Alvarez said. “Treat it well. That one’s my favorite.” She told him, pointing one of her fingers at him, and then corrected herself. “ _Was_ my favorite. But you need it more, because your wardrobe is still very monotone.”

For some reason this little bit of information took a moment to really settle in. Jean blinked down at the fabric in his hands. “Oh,” he said. 

“God,” Alvarez said, shaking her head and looking to Jeremy. “He’s so cute. How do you get anything done with this kid around?”

Jeremy laughed softly. “It gets distracting sometimes,” he said. “But it’s worth it.”

Jean was never sure how to handle how affectionate the Trojans were. He’d never really dealt with any kind of affection before, so he’d never learned how to react to it. So he just stared down into his coffee and mumbled another thank you.

In response, Jeremy ran his hand through Jean’s hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway i hope this chapter was worth the wait, and i hope u guys enjoy it!! the good news is that i already have the next chapter mostly written. i pretty much just have to edit it before it'll be ready to post, so hopefully there won't be another long waiting period
> 
> feel free 2 come check out my tumblr ([@danwildsofficial](http://danwildsofficial.tumblr.com/)) or my tfc sideblog ([@jeanmorohno](http://jeanmorohno.tumblr.com/)) i've been posting a couple drabbles there if u guys wanna read more of my writing !!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think, if there is an award for most erratic update schedule, that it should definitely go to me. like seriously kudos to everyone who fucking puts up w me jhdkfjghdjfg i love u all
> 
> anyway i dont have much of the next chapter written so it looks like theres gonna be another long wait after this
> 
> u guys should know that at this point i genuinely have no clue if this chapter is any good or not. the amount of time it took me to write and edit this chapter means that by now these words in this particular order have lost all meaning to me. i hope u guys like it

The next day was Friday, March 21st. The girls stayed true to their promise to leave Jean be and let him enjoy a low-key day, although they did insist on spending most of it with him and Jeremy. He didn’t mind that, though. No matter how much crap they gave each other, he actually did like spending time with them. The day after that was Saturday, which was the day before everyone had to head back to campus and get ready for school again. Everyone staying at the house over break seemed to come to the collective decision that that meant they had to have a massive blow-out before school started again. That afternoon Ellie made a liquor run with one of the lacrosse players, and the two of them came back with two bags stuffed full of booze.

Jean didn’t think it would be possible, but they managed to drink their way through all of it, even with Jean only having three drinks. On Sunday Jean wound up driving Alvarez’s car back to USC, since the other three were all too hunger over to drive. Alvarez herself spent the entire drive with her head practically hanging out the open window, and Laila and Jeremy napped the ride away in the backseat. Jean made sure to get pictures.

After spring break ended, April began and brought with it semifinals. The first semi-final match was between the Foxes and Penn State, which meant the Trojans had the week off.

Jeremy managed to rope the entire team into watching the game. The only place all 28 of of them would fit into was the team room in the stadium, so with the time difference Jeremy called an end to practice early and everyone made themselves comfortable around the room. Jeremy flicked the TV on and flipped through the channels until he found one that would be broadcasting the game. It was currently airing pre-game interviews with Penn and Palmetto’s coaches.

Conditions were still kind of cramped in the team room, so Laila wound up sitting on Alvarez’s lap in one chair to save space, but it didn’t look like either of them minded. If given the chance, the girls invaded each others personal space as much as humanly possible. It might annoy Jean if it wasn’t actually kind of nice to see his friends so disgustingly in love. Jean turned back to the TV and scooted a little closer to Jeremy on the couch they were seated on.

The Lions managed to take first half by two points, but by now Jean knew the Foxes paced themselves to go harder during the second half, and he honestly wasn’t sure which way this game would wind up going. Jean pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing out a quick good luck text to Renee. On an impulse, he added Kevin’s name to the recipients when he thought about Kevin reaching out to him after the Ravens game. Neither of them replied before halftime ended, but Jean had expected that.

The second half started out tame enough, but got rough in under 15 minutes. Not as rough as a game could get, and not rough enough for any of the players to get a red card, but the two teams were obviously both desperate to win. The Foxes pulled ahead at around 20 minutes in, and for a moment it looked like they might actually win, but the Lions tied the score ten minutes later, and pulled ahead with five minutes left on the clock. The Foxes didn’t manage to pull ahead again, but they only lost by one point. Jean wasn’t sure how he felt about the outcome, but several of the Trojans (including Alvarez and Jeremy) seemed genuinely crushed by the Foxes defeat.

“Okay,” Alvarez eventually said, taking the remote from Jeremy and shutting off the television after post-game interviews with the players. “Uh. Thoughts?”

There was silence around the room for at least 30 seconds, until Parker, a dealer sub, spoke up. “Does this mean the Foxes are a part of the 'Big Three' now? Is it us, Penn, and Palmetto?”

“God, I hope so,” Darek said emphatically. “How nice would it be to, like,  _not_  have to deal with the Ravens anymore?”

Jean agreed wholeheartedly with that statement. The Foxes were an abysmal team, but Jean would take them over the Ravens any day. There were a lot of agreements around the room, which only made Jean appreciate the Trojans more. The team didn't have much to say after that, so gradually everyone filtered out of the stadium to head back to the dorms.

Jeremy and Jean rode home in silence, both lost in thought about the game they’d just seen. Jean was trying to compare what he knew of Kevin’s playing style from his time with the Ravens to what he’d just seen on TV by the time they made it back to the dorm and Jeremy snapped him out of his reverie.

“So this is it, huh?” Jeremy said, locking the front door behind him and heading into the kitchen. Jean turned to look at him, and found Jeremy staring back at him. “The home stretch. Just three more games,” he continued.

Jean pursed his lips and nodded his head once. For Jean, he’d have more games to play with the Trojans next year, but for Jeremy… These would be the last games of his collegiate career. Jean knew half the professional teams in the country would be jumping to sign Jeremy, so it wasn’t like he would be done with Exy, but… That would be different, and he felt something heavy settle in the air. “We’ll have to make them good,” Jean said, proud of himself for keeping his voice level.

“We’ll have to,” Jeremy agreed, smiling softly at Jean. He bit his bottom lip and looked away, sighing before he turned back. “Jean,” he said, almost plaintively, “we have to win this year. We can’t come in second or third this time.”

Jean nodded. “We will,” he said. He still meant it, too. It might be difficult, but he was still confident in his teams' abilities.

“How can you be so sure about that?” Jeremy asked.

Jean shrugged. In truth he supposed there was really no way of knowing how championships would actually go. After all, the Foxes had miraculously won against the Ravens last year against all odds. But… Knowing what this meant to his team, to  _Jeremy_ , Jean decided there was no way he could let them lose. After everything they'd done for him, it was the least he could do in return. “I told you,” he said. “I don’t play for losing teams.”

Jeremy managed a shaky laugh. "So you've said."

“No, really,” Jean said. “Think of it this way: the only reason you lost to the Foxes last year was because you didn’t know how to pace for a full game. But isn’t that what we’ve been working towards this whole year?” Jean raised an eyebrow. “Now that we’re prepared, it will be no problem to beat the Foxes. When we play them in two weeks we will eliminate them, and then it will just be us and the Lions, and I know you’ve beaten them before and you can do it again.”

Jeremy considered him for a moment. Jean didn't know how to read what he saw on his face, so he was glad when a small but sincere grin found its way onto Jeremy's lips. "I mean, I guess that does make sense."

Jean nodded. “I told you,” he repeated. “I know Exy.”

Jeremy nodded, leaning back on the kitchen counter and tapping his fingers against the countertop. Jean considered him a moment before he propped himself next to Jeremy. He grabbed his hand, turning it over slowly and inspecting it. There were no scars and no crooked fingers, none of the markers of abuse Jean’s own hands bore. Jeremy just had a large freckle directly in the center of the back of his hand.

“What happens after this?” Jean asked, because now that Jeremy’s qualms had been temporarily squashed Jean had a few of his own. Things that had bothered him for awhile but that he hadn’t had the fortitude to voice until now.

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, knocking his shoulder against Jean’s to get Jean to finally look at him.

“After you graduate. After  _I_  graduate,” Jean said. “What happens with… Us?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I don't know,” he said in a gentle voice. “Look. I don’t want to promise you anything I can’t actually deliver on, so I’m not going to pretend I know exactly what’s going to happen in the next few years, but…” He gave Jean's have a gentle squeeze. “I’m not gonna give up on us, on  _you._ Okay? I’m gonna do whatever I can to make this work. I promise that much." He met Jean's gaze, and there was no hesitation in his eyes. "We’ll figure it out.”

Jean had never had a reason to believe anyone’s promises in his life. But he had no problem trusting Jeremy. “We will figure it out,” Jean agreed.

For now it was enough to know he had an actual future past graduation, with an actual chance at a real life when he’d just been surviving for so long. Knowing Jeremy wanted to be a  _part_  of that future was more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

 

-

 

It was halftime in the Trojans game against the Lions, and Penn State was leading by two points. Even though it was a stupid move in Jean’s opinion, the Trojans had no plans to budge from their strategy to only play with a bare minimum line up. They were letting a few more subs on court tonight, but Jeremy still didn’t want to use the full line. Jean thought it foolish, but if the Foxes could beat the Ravens with nine people, he supposed he really had no right to complain.

“We’re still gonna own them,” Alvarez was insisting, her arm slung over Jeremy’s shoulder as they sipped cups of Gatorade. “Seriously, you know we always kick ass during the second half.”

Jeremy nodded, but his skin looked about two shades lighter than normal. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Alvarez rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Jer. Don’t even sweat.”

“I dunno how you and Jean always manage to be so confident about this,” Jeremy said.

“Because we  _know we’re going to win_ , silly,” Alvarez said, flicking Jeremy on the forehead. “And even if we don’t, it’s no biggie, right? We’ll just kick the Foxes asses next week, and then we’ll just have to kick Penn’s ass in finals.”

“If we can’t win tonight, what makes you think we can win in finals?” Jeremy asked. 

Jean wandered over to join them just as Alvarez was letting out an exasperated groan. “Oh my god, Jer, chill out. What is with you tonight? You’ve never cared so much about winning before. I thought it was about, like, fun and being better players, and all that crap.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Sara,” he said. “It’s different now. I only have… Two-and-a-half games left with you guys. If this goes badly…” He sighed. “Look. The captain of the Foxes managed to turn her team from the worst in the country to national champions in _four years_ ,” Jeremy insisted, staring into his cup. “What does it say about me if I never manage to get us above second-place?”

Alvarez blinked at him, obviously not expecting that answer. Judging by the look on her face, she was completely lost. She turned her bewildered stare on Jean, her wide eyes an obvious and silent plea for help.

Jean sighed, stepping up in front of Jeremy. “Jeremy,” he said, tipping his chin up with his index finger. “Listen to me. There are dozens of teams in Class I Exy, which means dozens of captains who’s team never even makes it to championships. You’ve kept the Trojans in the top three schools since you first became captain. Please realize how impressive that is.”

“Wow,” Alvarez said, giving an approving nod. “Eloquent  _and_  sappy. Way to go, Moreau.”

Jean ignored her in favor of looking into Jeremy’s eyes. The look Jeremy was sending him told Jean he’d failed and would have to think up something else, but then in a flash he was in Jean’s personal space, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his shoulder. Jean blinked, but he was quick enough to respond, wrapping his arms around Jeremy.

Jeremy had to pull away when the warning buzzer sounded so they had to head out to the court again, but Jean gave his hand a brief squeeze before heading back to the court. Jean was on for the first 20 minutes of the half, but after that he was switched out for another backliner. The score was seven-seven when he left the court, and it didn’t budge for the longest time. When Jeremy was subbed out at the 32 minute mark, the score was still tied up.

“Jean,” Jeremy started, looking sweaty, exhausted, and stressed, but somehow still attractive as he flopped down beside Jean on the away bench. “If I die from stress tonight, make sure I get a pretty headstone.”

Jean shook his head and frowned. “Don’t say things like that,” he said, trying to keep his eyes on the game.

Jeremy didn’t respond, but Jean let it slide due to the situation. From the looks of it, they were headed for a shoot out. Of course they were. Jean rubbed at his eyes and scowled.

He opened his eyes again when he felt Jeremy’s hand on his forearm. Jean glanced over at him, and then followed his gaze to where it was trained on the court. There were two minutes left on the clock, and Elliot had just gotten possession of the ball from the Lion's backliners. With no openings, he tossed it back to Jacob, who passed it forward again to Ryan.

Alvarez was pacing back and forth to physically trail the ball’s progress up by the plexiglass, so lost in the game she almost walked directly into one of the referees. Rhemann tried to rein her in and calm her down, but with the seconds ticking down to the end of the game, he gave it up as a lost cause and just let her lose her shit for now.

One minute, 40 seconds, and Ryan passed to Elliot after taking seven steps and being intercepted by his backliner mark. One minute, 29 seconds, and Elliot sidestepped his own mark for the first shot on goal in five minutes. Jeremy’s grip on Jean’s arm tightened, and with one minute and 15 seconds left on the clock, Elliot took his shot and fired it home against the top left corner of the goal. The Lion’s goalie was  _just_  too slow to stop it, and the goal lit up red.

Now all the Trojans had to do was stop the Lions from scoring in the next minute, which Jean knew would be harder than it sounded. He thought back to Kevin scoring in the last two seconds in last year’s championship game and repressed a shiver as the last seconds ticked away.

Jean thought he could feel relief pouring off Jeremy in physical waves when the buzzer finally sounded on a Trojan win.

“I told you,” Jean said to him, nudging him with his elbow.

Jeremy laughed that perfect and easy laugh of his, and when Jean looked over at him he was beaming with enough radiance to easily rival the sun. The only response he could muster was to throw his arms around Jean and pull him into a short but fierce hug. Jean was almost too stunned to reciprocate, but he managed to hug Jeremy back before he pulled away. When Jeremy ran off to meet the rest of the team, Jean was fairly certain he was blushing fiercely.

The Lions took the loss fairly well; they were civil and polite to the extent that they had to be, but Jean figured this must be grating on them. When the Trojans eliminated the Foxes next week, Penn State and USC would have to play each other again, and if they’d lost this game, well… Jean assumed they knew their odds going into the next match.

Not that Jean gave a damn. They would have to settle for being second best, because the Trojans were refusing to be anything but champions this year.

Once everyone was changed out and waiting in the locker room to leave, Coach Rhemann came back from the court with a pair of security guards on his heels. “Okay,” he called out, using his Coach-voice to get everyone's attention right away. “I’m going to need Cheng, Knox, Reid, Dermott, and Remirez to come with me please.”

At the same time that Laila said, “Wait,  _me_?” Alvarez said, “Wait, Laila?”

“I said Dermott, didn’t I?” Rhemann said, raising his eyebrows. “C’mon. We just need a few minutes of your time.”

Jean exchanged a look with Jeremy, and tried his best to shoot his boyfriend an encouraging smile. Jeremy smiled back, squeezing his arm briefly before he followed Ryan, Jacob, and Kate, with Laila following hesitantly after him.

Jean wasn’t stupid; he knew what this was. Recruiters from pro teams had been showing up at the last several of the Trojans' games. He’d seen this process before with the Ravens. They wanted to meet potential new talent.

Jean didn’t know why Laila had been so surprised. It wasn’t like there was a rule which said you had to be in your last year of school to get recruited. Kevin and Riko had both signed with professional teams by the end of their freshman year at Edgar Allen. Frankly, with Laila’s talent, Jean was a little surprised it had taken this long for her to get noticed. Perhaps it was just prejudice, considering she was very open about her sexuality, and her relationship with Alvarez.

Jean sank down onto one of the couches which hugged all four walls of the slightly-crowded away locker room, setting his bag down by his feet and staring at the door Jeremy had just vanished through, letting his thoughts wander.

Jean came back to reality when Alvarez sat down heavily on the couch beside him, pulling her knees up to her chest and melting back against the cushions. “Jean,” she said. “I need you to promise me something, okay?”

Jean looked over at her, and was a little alarmed at the raw emotion he saw in her eyes. “What is it?” He asked.

Alvarez grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together, which shocked Jean for a split second. He was pretty proud of himself that he didn’t flinch away from the unfamiliar contact; he was only used to holding hands with Jeremy, and he had to adjust to the new context. But he did. “Promise me that you’ll still hang out with me next year. Like, if my girlfriend ditches me to go off and play for some fancy pro team, you still have to spend time with me, okay?” She scrunched up her nose. “I know you and Laila are, like, best friends, but you’re not allowed to bail on me even if she’s not around.”

Jean scrunched his brows together. “Sara,” he said, trying out her first name for the first time since he’d met her. “Just a few weeks ago you told me we were family. The last family I had abandoned me and never looked back when I was eleven years old. It would break me if my new family tried to do the same. You are stuck with me.” He said. “I'm kind of counting on the both of you to keep me together next year. Jeremy won’t be here, I’m…” He sighed, staring down at the floor. Dealing with the next year without Jeremy would be challenging enough. If he had to do it without Laila and Alvarez, that would be almost unbearable. “I am going to need you much more than you will need me, whether Laila is around or not.”

Alvarez pursed her lips and nodded. “So it’s a deal, huh? Neither of us is allowed to ditch the other.”

Jean nodded. “Deal,” he said. “But it’s moot, anyway. Laila won’t… ‘ditch you.’ She’s not going to leave USC, no matter what happens.” He told her.

Alvarez shrugged. “I hope so,” she said, falling into a contemplative silence. “Also, I’m gonna kick your parents asses,” she added, the familiar rowdiness back in her voice.

Jean stared at her, trying for a moment to figure out how she'd jumped from one topic to the other. “Okay?” Jean eventually said.

“No, for real,” Alvarez said. “They’re idiots, and anyone who would do what they did aren’t your family. They’re just some people you happen to share DNA with. Family doesn’t…” She waved her hands around vaguely. “You know. Do that. Anyway, the point is, fuck your parents, you were right, we’re your family now.”

“You get…” He searched for the right word, and the one he settled on was one Alvarez herself had used earlier that night. “ _Sappy_  when you’re not around Laila,” he commented.

Alvarez laughed. “Shit, dude, you should see me when it’s just me and her alone. We’re gushy as fuck. It’s  _disgusting_.” She grinned.

“I have a hard time picturing you  _or_  Laila being… ‘Gushy,’” Jean said, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“I could say the same about you, Frenchy, but the stories I hear from Jer paint a  _very_  gushy picture,” she replied.

Jean forgot how to speak for a moment or two. “You and Jeremy… talk about me?”

Alvarez snorted. “Please,” she said. “He hardly talks about anything  _but_  you these days. I honestly can’t decide if it’s adorable or annoying.”

Jean didn’t know what to make of that. “Sorry?” He eventually said. It came out like a question, not really sure what he was apologizing for, or if it was even needed.

It probably wasn’t, judging by the grin Alvarez sent his way. “You are golden, Moreau,” she said. “Please don’t ever change.”

Alvarez had said that about him before. She’d called him ‘pure gold’ back in July, back when he didn’t even know how to be her friend much less her family. He still thought it a bewildering choice of descriptors for him.

“But also, don’t apologize. Honestly, I’m just teasing. I actually think it’s nice you guys found each other,” she told him. “Besides, it’s better than the piny garbage I had to put up with before you got together.”

Alvarez sure was… Saying a lot of things tonight. Jean turned to stare openly at her. “The  _what_?” He asked.

That pulled another laugh out of Alvarez. “God, you should’ve heard him. Laila and I were on the verge of staging a full-on intervention. Maybe locking you guys in a closet together or something.”

Jean scrunched up his nose up and making a face. “Thank you for… Not doing that,” he said. “Anyway, I think a closet would’ve been a poor choice of venue for that type of... thing.”

Jean watched a grin almost split Alvarez's face in half. “Was that a  _joke_?” She asked, running a hand through her hair. “Holy shit. You don’t even know how proud I am of you right now.”

She started to laugh again, and Jean couldn’t really help it; he started laughing too. It was kind of nice. This was the closest Jean had felt to… Normal, in a while. This was what regular 22-year-old college students did, right? Laughed about stupid nonsense with their friends.

“Hey,” Alvarez said, after she’d calmed down, nudging Jean with her elbow. “You wanna see something?”

Jean gave her an apprehensive look. “Depends,” Jean said. “What is it?”

Alvarez grinned at him and patted down her pockets until she located her phone. She took a few minutes to find whatever she was looking for on it. “Here,” she finally said, and passed Jean the phone.

Jean took it, and it only took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. It was the photo she’d taken of him and Jeremy on the bus before the fall banquet, with Jeremy asleep on Jean’s shoulder.

Jean’s face was bright red in the photo, although he wasn’t sure if that was from a sunburn or a blush. He’d gotten a lot of sunburns his first few months in LA, but he was pretty sure in that instance the color on his face in was a combination of the two. Jeremy kept his hair shorter these days than he did in the photo, and Jean’s hair looked messy and terrible; it had just barely grown back from when Riko had ripped chunks of it out at the time the photo had been taken, and he hadn’t trusted anyone else to cut it, so he’d been doing it himself.

It was a little jarring to see the ‘3’ on his left cheekbone, so he focused on Jeremy instead, content and peaceful tucked against Jean’s side.

“You still have this?” He asked incredulously. Now that he thought about it, Jean was pretty sure that was the only photo of him and Jeremy together.

“Yep,” Alvarez confirmed. “I obviously can’t use it as blackmail material anymore, but I thought it was cute, so I kept it anyway.” She shrugged.

Jean didn’t really want to stop looking at the photo, but he figured he’d been staring at it for an awkwardly long period of time, so he reluctantly handed Alvarez her phone back.

Like she could read his mind (or maybe his face. He wasn’t sure what his expression looked like right now) Alvarez snorted. “I’ll send it to you,” she assured him, patting him on the shoulder.

Jean nodded. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and then, “Alvarez?”

“Yeah, Moreau?” She responded, slanting her playful grin at him.

Jean tried to find the right words for what he wanted to ask, and it took him a while to do so. “Why did you and Laila decide to be friends with me?”

It took a moment before she answered, and by that point her grin was gone. “Jean,” She started, shaking her head. “You have this weird talent for saying shit that is just so heart-breaking in the most casual way,” Alvarez told him, furrowing her brows together.

“It’s a fair question,” Jean said defensively. “I wasn’t very nice when I first got here.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Alvarez said. “I mean, you were kind of a dick, I guess, but you were never mean or malicious or anything like that. You were just, like, defensive and prickly. Like a stray cat.”

“A stray cat,” Jean repeated incredulously.

“Yeah,” Alvarez said. “Y’know, it was kinda like no one had really been nice to you in a while. Or, ever, so you didn’t trust anyone to be nice to you now. But once you knew we were friendly, you warmed up and let us pet you.”

“Pet me?”

“Sticking with the stray cat metaphor here,” Alvarez said.

Jean nodded. “Right.”

“Plus,” Alvarez said. “You should see Laila before she has her coffee. She’s grumpy enough to put your surly ass to shame.”

Jean smiled, small and genuine, because he was certain his friends would never stop amazing him in one way or another. He braced himself and stared down at his feet. “I was never alone with the Ravens,” he explained, frowning. “But I never realized how lonely I was until I came here and suddenly I  _wasn’t_  lonely anymore. So… Thank you.”

“Oh my  _god_ ,” Alvarez said, and Jean could swear she almost sounded choked up. “Come on, dude, don’t do that,” she said. “You know we love having you in our lives.”

Jean cleared his throat and nodded. “I, um. Ditto,” he finally said.

Alvarez considered him for a moment before her stony expression broke and she grinned at him, shoving lightly at his shoulder. After that, Alvarez killed the rest of the time they spent waiting for their respective significant others with idle chitchat and gossip. Just like Jeremy, she could talk enough for the both of them, and Jean found himself smiling as he listened to her.

 

-

 

The Trojans game against the Foxes was another away game. (Unfortunately.) Jean wasn’t really looking forward to going back to the Foxhole Court, but at least it was better than Evermore. The rest of his teammates were fucking thrilled, of course. For some indiscernible reason, they admired the Foxes, and seemed genuinely excited to be in enemy territory.

The locker room in PSU’s stadium was obnoxiously bright, but Jean supposed all the orange was better than never-ending black, so he was able to get over it. It also helped that Jean knew if they won against the Foxes tonight, they’d be kicked out of championships, and the Trojans would be one step closer to winning the whole thing.

The team still had a bit before they needed to head out to the court, so everyone was talking strategy. Jeremy still planned to match the Foxes sub-for-sub, but this time the Foxes had 15 players on their lineup, and the Trojans had been training to play like this all year, so this year the odds were tipped out of the Foxes favor.  Jean glanced around the locker room and went to stand between Alvarez and Jeremy. Jeremy was talking to Ryan, going over a few last-minute ideas. Jean was silent for a moment, but eventually he turned to Alvarez. “Let me mark Kevin tonight,” he said.

Alvarez raised her eyebrows at him. “Really?”

Jean nodded. “I’ve known him since we were children. He may have learned some new tricks with the Foxes, but I know how he plays.”

“Okay, but doesn’t that mean  _he_  knows how  _you_  play?” Alvarez asked.

Jean shrugged. “Yes, but I have you guys, and you make me a better player,” he reasoned. “Anyway, you clock a faster mile than me and we both know Josten is the fastest striker in the game.”

Alvarez exchanged a look with Laila before she nodded. “Alright, works for me.” She let that wide, almost manic grin of hers slip onto her face. “It’ll be nice to have a rematch against Josten after last year.”

That made Jean smirk a bit. No matter how highly his team praised the Foxes, they still wanted to beat them with an intensity, and for some reason that lit a fire in Jean’s heart. “Kick his ass, Alvarez,” he said.

“Fuck yeah,” Alvarez said. “You kick Kevin’s,” she added.

“But do it nicely,” Jeremy pitched in. “And be good sports about it!”

Jean flicked his eyes over to Jeremy, his grin widening a bit. “Of course, _cher_ ,” he said, patting Jeremy on the shoulder.

Jeremy gave him a look, but he smiled back after a moment. He looked like he was about to say something, but at that point they were called out for warm ups and drills, so instead Jeremy just stood on his toes to kiss Jean on the cheek before he turned and headed out to the court.

Jean tried not to pay much attention to the Foxes when they came out of the home locker room, but he caught Kevin’s eye on one of their laps around the inner ring. Jean wasn’t sure which of them was quicker to look away, but he was pretty sure they both almost gave themselves whiplash in the process.

After what seemed like no time at all, Jeremy met the Foxes’ captain on the court for the coin toss. The Foxes won the right to first serve, and just like that the game was starting. Jean almost regretted agreeing to mark Kevin. Sure, he knew how Kevin played, but a little shiver of anxiety went through him when he stepped onto the court and saw Kevin fucking Day across from him, wearing that horrifically orange jersey and a chess piece on his face. He wondered briefly what Kevin would think of his own modified ink, but at that point the buzzer sounded and Jean was thankfully able to just lose himself in the game. That was the good thing about Exy: no matter how complicated his feelings for the sport were after Riko, when he was on the court he was able to leave all his drama and bullshit behind.

To their credit, the Foxes fought valiantly and did a fairly decent job during the first half. They were certainly a mile ahead of where they’d been the last time Jean had faced them, over a year ago when he was still a Raven. Renee did a decent job guarding her goal, (especially when Allison was on the court with her) but the Trojans were able to claim a two-point lead by the time the buzzer sounded for half-time.

Jean wouldn’t be on for the first twenty minutes of the second half, so he was able to just watch the game from the sidelines. No one scored for the first 15 minutes of the game, since Laila and Andrew Minyard were in the goals, and they were two of the best goalies in the country. But the Foxes did manage to snag a point at 17 minutes in. After that was another Trojan point, followed by two more Fox points. That point put the Foxes in the lead, but they didn’t stay that way for long. When Jean went back on the court with Alvarez, and the two of them teamed up with Laila, they were pretty much able to lock out the Foxes offense. The Trojans only won by one point, but it was still a win. Still a victory, which meant a one-way ticket to finals.

Jena thought Jeremy and Alvarez were going to have a fit, they were so excited. And they only fed off each others energy. Jean almost didn’t realize he was smiling as he watched them, and eventually let them rope him into their celebration. It wasn’t as monumental as the win against the Ravens had been, but Jean still felt lighter after beating Kevin. He hadn’t realized that was something he needed for his recovery until it actually happened. He needed to prove to himself that Riko was wrong, that he wasn't destined to be third best, always trailing behind Kevin. And now he had.

All the way from half court Jean could hear one of the Foxes backliners- number eight, Hemmick- scoff loudly. “Oh my god, Kevin,” he was saying. “You could at least not look so damn pleased about this. We just lost, you know!”

Jean shot Kevin a glance, and sure enough, he was wearing a satisfied smile on his face. Jean almost laughed. He thought about telling Hemmick he was fighting a lost cause, because even back in the Nest Kevin had been a rabid USC fanboy, but he didn’t want to waste his words on some random Fox right now.

When the two teams convened for the post-game handshake, there was a lot of excited chatter. A couple of the freshmen Foxes looked a bit distraught at the loss, but mostly both teams were in good spirits. Things were a lot less organized than was strictly necessary, and there was a lot of compliments from both sides. Jean wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn't find it in him right now.

At one point, Neil asked Alvarez if her legs had grown back yet. Jean thought it an odd question, but Alvarez just laughed loudly and said they had.

“Did you really punch Riko in the face at the winter banquet?” Alvarez asked him in return.

It wasn’t even Neil who answered. Instead, from further down the line, Boyd let out a laugh. “Yes,” he said, beaming. “It was glorious.”

Alvarez returned his grin. “Dude, Josten,” she said. “You are officially my new hero,” she told him before they parted.

Jean just shook his head and threw his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders as they finished up. Jeremy beamed up at him and wrapped his arm around Jean’s waist.

They were almost to the court door when Renee’s voice stopped them. “Jean!” She called. “Wait!”

Jean (and Jeremy, since he was still holding onto him) stopped and turned back before they could make it off the court. Renee was smiling that honey-sweet smile of hers as she approached.

Before she said anything, Jeremy flicked his finger back and forth between the two of them. “You guys match,” he said.

Renee glanced down at herself and then up at Jean and laughed softly. “So we do,” she said, pinching the number nine on her jersey between her fingers. “When is your flight home?” she asked.

“Tomorrow morning, I believe,” Jean said, frowning a little.

“Um, yeah, I wanna say it’s at like… Eleven-thirty,” Jeremy confirmed.

Renee nodded, her smile widening. “In that case, would you like to come to a party tonight? The team is heading over to Abby’s later, and I thought it might be nice if you joined us. Both of you are welcome,” Renee was quick to add, smiling at Jeremy.

Jean blinked, and shot a glance down at Jeremy. The thought of socializing with the Foxes daunted him, but… He knew Renee planned to join the Peace Corps after she graduated, so he really didn’t know when he’d actually be able to spend any time with her again after this. “I suppose,” he eventually said. “If you want,” he added, that last bit addressed to Jeremy.

“Are you kidding? A chance to party with the Foxes? I’m  _so_  down,” Jeremy said, grinning.

“Lovely,” Renee said. “If you don’t mind hanging around, we can all ride over to Abby’s once everyone’s showered and ready.” she said. She waited for Jean and Jeremy to confirm before she turned and headed off the court, to where Allison was waiting for her by the home benches. Jeremy and Jean followed their example, trailing their team to the away locker room.

Jean wasn’t sure if he should be surprised or not that Laila and Alvarez managed to snake their way into the party. As soon as they found out why Jeremy and Jean were sticking behind while the rest of the team headed to their hotel, Laila instantly called Renee and got her and her girlfriend invites. Jean wanted to be annoyed, but he figured it would be easier to deal with the Foxes with his friends there.

 

-

 

Renee came and collected them from the away locker room once the stadium started to clear out, and they all piled into a bright pink convertible out in the parking lot.  It was almost scary how well Laila and Alvarez got along with Renee. Jean was barely able to get a word in, and even Jeremy had very little to contribute on the short drive to Abby Winfield’s house.

It had been almost a year since Jean was last here, but still, he couldn’t suppress all of a shudder when they pulled up to the curb outside the house. At least he was here under happier circumstances this time. From the looks of all the cars in the drive and on the street, the rest of the Foxes were already here. 

Jean took Jeremy’s hand on the way to Abby’s front door, because that was the only way he’d find the strength to walk into this house again and face all the Foxes.  Renee gave the front door a couple cursory knocks before just opening it. So Abby still left her door unlocked, that much hadn’t changed in a year, apparently.

“Abby should upgrade her security,” Jean commented.

Renee smiled at him and shrugged. “We’ve actually talked to her about that more than once,” she said. “She seems to be quite stuck in her ways.” She turned and called out to alert Abby of their arrival, and as soon as they all stepped through the door Jean heard noise.

Laila was the last one through the door and she shut it behind her. The house looked pretty much exactly as it had when he’d been here last year. Jean blinked and let go of Jeremy’s hand to pull the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over his knuckles, sparing a glance around the entryway before they were met by their first Fox.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Abby who met them by the door. It was Hemmick, appearing at the sound of more people arriving. “Oh shit,” he said, and then called over his shoulder. “Mom, there are strangers in the house!”

And then Abby finally showed her face, rolling her eyes and shoving at Hemmick’s shoulder. “Nicky, they aren’t strangers. Jean lived in this house for two months, in case you forgot.”

"Right, yeah," Nicky grinned, almost mischievously. "Plus I'm pretty sure Kevin's got like a massive boner for your entire team," he said. "Especially you," he waggled a finger in Jeremy's direction.

Abby shook her head, but she ignored him. “Good to see you, Jean,” she said, moving in to give him a quick squeeze. Jean was so taken aback he almost didn't get a chance to return the hug, but before she let go he managed a quick pat on the back.

“You too,” Jean said when she pulled away. He was pretty sure he meant it, too.

Abby smiled warmly- which bewildered Jean further. He didn't think he'd left that big of an impression on her. But then again, he knew she had a massive soft spot for broken children, so maybe Jean had accidentally endeared himself to her when he’d shown up on her doorstep a bloody, hopeless mess. She turned to Laila, Alvarez, and Jeremy. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Abby, Foxes’ team nurse and occasional begrudging den mother.”

All three Trojans were positively  _beaming_ when they introduced themselves to her.

“So,” Abby said. “I think everyone’s either in the living room or the kitchen, if you guys want to join the party.”

Renee nodded at her, and she followed Abby and Nicky down the hall to the main room. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Alvarez said, faltering in the hallway as the room came into view and clutching at Laila's arm. “Oh my god, that’s Danielle Wilds. _Dan fucking Wilds_ is here, holy shit.”

“Is that a good thing?” Jean asked, scanning the crowd until he found the Foxes’ captain sitting on the arm of a couch across the room, her arm thrown over Boyd’s shoulder.

“Uh, fuck yes.” Alvarez said. “She was the first female captain in Class I Exy! She’s such a badass. That girls is like, my fucking  _hero_.” She grabbed Laila and pulled her forward. “Babe, c’mon, we  _have_  to talk to her.”

Laila grinned and waved at Jean and Jeremy before she followed after her girlfriend.

Jean hesitated before following, and Jeremy glanced up at him. “Does Kevin really have a thing for me?” He asked.

A bit surprised, Jean turned to face Jeremy, raising his eyebrows and letting out a quiet laugh. “He might,” Jean said. “God knows he would never shut up about you and your team even when we were Ravens," Jean admitted. "But he does have a girlfriend.”

Jeremy let out a laugh, nudging Jean with his elbow. “Our team,” he corrected.

“Yes, right,” Jean said, unaware he'd slipped up this time. “Our team.”

Jeremy smiled, and the two of them finally went to join the Foxes. Their appearance in the room definitely got some stares, but Jean ignored those and went to chat with Renee and Allison. Kevin was nowhere in sight, and neither were either of the Minyards or Neil. And while Jean was vaguely grateful for that, he knew they were around here somewhere, and he wasn't looking forward to spending the night waiting for them to pop up.

He shoved the thought aside and turned back to his friends. Renee smiled at him, and Allison nodded in greeting.

“Nice ink,” Allison said to him, vaguely gesturing to her own face.

“Thanks,” Jean said, with a small shrug.

Allison nodded, and Renee offered them drinks. Jean declined, because even around just the Trojans he still didn’t like how alcohol made him feel so out of control and loopy, like the world was just out of focus, so he wasn’t about to get drunk around the Foxes. Jeremy, however, wouldn’t miss the opportunity for free alcohol, so Renee lead him into the kitchen to get something to drink.

Jean actually didn’t mind Allison Reynolds, but he still didn’t know what the fuck to say to her when Renee wasn’t around to play middleman. Luckily Allison seemed just as disinterested in smalltalk as he did, and they weren't alone with her for long. Nicky sidled over to them a moment later, a red Solo cup in his hand and a grin on his face.

“Hey, Moreau,” he said. “Settle a bet for us?”

Allison snorted, an amused look on her face like she knew what Nicky was about to say. Jean just raised one of his eyebrows.

Nicky seemed to take that as a cue to continue. “So, you and Renee,” he said, “are you two an item?”

Jean gave him his best blank stare. He wondered why people kept assuming he was involved with Renee romantically. He'd pretty much known Renee was gay from the first moment he say her. It was probably the hair. “Are you serious?” He asked.

“Yeah, man, c’mon,” Nicky said. “Renee won’t give us a straight answer—” (Jean thought that was a poor choice of words) “—and there’s kind of a big pot riding on it at this point.”

Jean supposed that answered his question as to whether or not the Foxes knew about Renee and Allison yet. Jean knew from Renee that the Foxes would bet on literally anything, but this bet could’ve been settled ages ago. He wasn’t surprised Renee hadn’t said anything about Jeremy and Jean, but Kevin had known Jean was gay since they were 12 and had no reason to keep quiet. Jean stored the information that Kevin had apparently kept it a secret away to deal with later.

“Well,” Jean said, taking a moment to chose his next words. “I suppose it is a relief to know you Foxes are still the most infuriatingly idiotic group of people I have ever had the misfortune of knowing.”

Jean hadn’t noticed Jeremy and Renee returning until Jeremy made an indignant noise from Jean’s side. “Oh my god, Jean, that’s so  _rude_.”

“For real,” Nicky said, but he brushed passed it in a second, likely used to the scorn from playing on such a subpar mess of a team. “It also is not an answer to my question.”

Jean debated just flat-out ignoring that, but eventually he decided to just give Nicky the truth. It wasn't like any of the Foxes would give a damn. “No,” Jean finally said, enunciating the word very clearly. “No, Renee and I are not ‘an item.’” He saw Renee raise her eyebrows at that, and Allison’s attempt at a neutral face didn’t manage to hide all of the smug smirk she was fighting off.

Nicky wrinkled his nose. “Damn. Really?” Nicky asked. “You sure about that? I really don’t want to keep losing money to Allison.”

“Positive,” Jean said, and then, for some reason he couldn’t quite place, he wrapped an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder, pulling him closer before saying, “considering I am in love with Jeremy.” He shot a look to Jeremy, hoping he wouldn’t mind Jean’s confession, but Jeremy was beaming up at him, clutching his red cup of whatever-the-fuck close to his chest in both hands.

“You can pay me in the morning,” Allison said, drumming her bright red fingernails against the opposite bicep.

Nicky looked just a bit gobsmacked, but he recovered enough to raise a fairly convincing argument that this hadn’t been one of the outcomes anyone had bet on, so  _technically_  no one should have to pay. Allison wasn’t having any of it, and in the end she managed to wrangle a concession out of Nicky.

During their argument, Jeremy looked up at Jean. “The Foxes were betting on you?” He asked.

Jean shrugged. “According to Renee, they bet on everything,” he answered. After watching Nicky make his retreat, likely to go inform the rest of his team about the outcome of their latest bet, Jean turned to Allison and Renee. “So they don’t know about you two?” He asked.

Renee shook her head. “Not yet,” she answered, a small smile gracing her lips. “It has actually become kind of a private bet between the two of us.” She gestured between herself and Allison.

“Yeah,” Allison said. “We’re waiting to see how long it takes for them to figure it out. You’d think at least Dan would’ve caught on, since she shares a dorm with us.”

Jean actually managed a huff of laughter at that.

“Wow,” Jeremy said. “The Trojans figured out Jean and I were together before we actually even got together.”

“Hence why the Foxes are fucking idiots,” Jean said, and then relented a bit. “Present company excluded.”

Jeremy shoved at his arm, but by now he knew Jean’s scathing comments could be so much worse, so he let it drop and settled into comfortable conversation with Renee and Allison. Jeremy Knox could get along with anyone.

Jean was almost relaxed by the time Kevin showed up.

He came in through the kitchen doorway, and froze at the sight of Jean and Jeremy. Jean took a moment to realize he’d gone completely rigid too, and he couldn't take his eyes off Kevin. Jeremy noticed Jean’s distraction and followed his line of sight, and when he spotted Kevin he smiled and waved. “Hey, Kevin!” He called.

Kevin blinked and snapped himself out of his daze, his eyes sliding away from Jean to Jeremy. Jean tried not to feel annoyed at the bright smile that crossed Kevin’s face, and almost succeeded.

“Hi,” Kevin said, looking almost painfully awkward as he approached. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Renee invited us,” Jeremy said, his signature sunny smile in place.

Kevin nodded. “You guys played a great game tonight,” he said, because if there was one thing Kevin could talk about, it was Exy.

“Thanks,” Jeremy said. “So did you. It was so amazing playing you guys again. It was a real challenge and a lot of fun. You don’t give up easy.” 

Jean knew he fucking meant it, too, and tried not to actively scowl. He wanted to hate Jeremy's optimism and sunshine, but he actually loved it, so he couldn't manage even that much. He did, however, feel a slight twinge of something unpleasant when Kevin opened his mouth again to reply.

“Kevin,” Jean said, interrupting them. He surprised himself even more by saying, “can we talk?”

Kevin looked about as shocked as Jean felt at hearing those words come out of Jean’s mouth. Jean was pretty sure both he and Jeremy had turned to stare at him. “Yes,” Kevin eventually said. “I think that would be a good idea.”

Jean nodded. Before he could even try to figure out how to respond, Kevin cleared his throat. “Do you want to go outside?”

Jean finally managed to meet Kevin’s eyes, if only because he felt like he’d avoided them for too long at this point. He nodded, and Kevin accepted that as his response. Kevin just turned and walked off towards the hall, and Jean figured he was meant to follow. He hesitated a moment, turning to face Jeremy before he went.

“You good?” Jeremy asked him, as soon as their eyes met.

Jean nodded. “This is something I need to do. I’ll be alright,” he said, pretty sure he was attempting to reassure himself more than Jeremy. “I’ll be back soon,  _chou_.” And with that he turned and followed Kevin out towards the front door.

They made it to the end of the driveway before either of them said a single world. Jean didn’t think either of them had any idea where they were going, but he also thought they didn’t have the constitution to stay still right now. It was easier to just walk side-by-side and stare at the sidewalk than it would be to face each other.

It was Kevin who broke the silence, in the stupidest way possible. “Why did you call Jeremy a cabbage?”

Jean turned to stare at the side of Kevin’s face. He was facing the side without the chess piece tattoo, he noticed.“Excuse me?” He blinked. “Is the Foxes’ stupidity contagious, or something? Because if so, I feel I should warn my team before they catch something.”  _My team._ Jeremy would get a kick out of hearing him say that.

The look Kevin shot him was bewildered and indignant. Kevin never was the best at picking up on social cues. Jean had to admit he was still working on that himself. The Nest didn’t exactly teach you healthy ways to interact with your peers. But Jean was fairly sure he at least would’ve picked up on the distinction between calling someone an endearment versus a vegetable.

Jean shook his head. “It was… I meant it the other way.”

“The other— Oh. So…” He stopped in his tracks, and Jean had to stop, too, and wait for Kevin to get over himself. “You and Jeremy?”

Jean nodded stiffly. “Yes, Kevin,  _me and Jeremy_.” He couldn’t help but bristle. He’d heard Kevin’s rants that it was easier to ‘remain straight’ or what-the-fuck-ever in the sports world too many times and he didn’t have the strength to hear it again. Not tonight. “Just because you’ve decided to pretend to be heterosexual doesn’t mean I have.”

Kevin shook his head and scowled, but he finally started walking again, and so Jean did too. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.”

“What is it, than?” Jean snapped. “Are you jealous?”

“ _No_ ,” Kevin snapped back, but it took him a moment before he could formulate a proper response. “You two just don’t really seem like each other’s type.”

Jean stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt so he wouldn’t hit Kevin. He didn’t know exactly why the comment struck him the wrong way, but it really did. What the fuck did Kevin know about who would or wouldn’t be Jean’s ‘type’? Or  _Jeremy's_ , for that matter. “Is this really what you want to talk about?” Jean asked, colder than ice.

“You were the one who wanted to talk,” Kevin shot back.

“Which I am sincerely regretting right now,” Jean returned. He let out a deep sigh, willing himself to cool down. He wasn’t angry at Kevin- well, he  _was_ , but not for this- and it wouldn’t do either of them any good to fight about arbitrary nonsense when there was so much tension in the air between them. “Look, let’s just drop it, okay?”

Kevin nodded. “Okay,” he agreed, searching for a change of subject. “So… How is California?” He asked awkwardly.

Jean retracted one of his hands from his pockets to brush the sun tattoo on his cheek. He was fairly certain he saw Kevin watching him in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t want to look and check. “Honestly?” He said. “It’s… It’s good.  _Very_  good.”

Kevin let out a long, almost relieved, breath. “Good,” he said. “I was hoping it would be good for you.”

It was just another harmless comment, but once again Jean bristled. Jean hadn't realized how much anger he was hanging onto. It had been easy to ignore it when he was in LA with the Trojans, but in South Carolina with the man himself, every little thing he said was just another barb sinking into Jean’s skin. He knew, logically, that it was mostly unwarranted, but didn’t everyone keep saying trauma and recovery didn’t work logically? “Yes, I imagine so,” Jean bit out. “Reparations for abandoning me in the Nest, yes?”

Kevin made a choked off sound at his side, and Jean pointedly did not look at him, instead focusing on the sky above. It was almost dark out, but not quite. There was still a bit of light turning the sky a myriad of purples and reds.

Kevin finally recovered enough to respond. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. Jean had really struck a nerve with that, which had a way of angering Jean further.  _Kevin_  wasn’t the one who’d had to deal with the repercussions of that decision. Riko hadn’t been able to touch  _him_ , Jean had had to take the brunt of that. “I know… I know how terrible Riko must have been.”

“Yes, it was terrible,” Jean confirmed bitterly. “It was worse when you signed your father's stupid fucking contract, when he found out you weren’t coming back.”

Jean risked a glance at Kevin, noting how all the blood had drained from his face. “I’m sorry,” Kevin said again.

“That’s helpful,” Jean bit out. “I was beaten half to death, but at least you’re sorry.”

Kevin blanched, opening his mouth and closing it again before he finally attempted speech. “Look, I—”

“No,  _you_  look,” Jean said, wheeling around so he was face-to-face with Kevin, stopping so abruptly Kevin stumbled trying not to run into him. All the desperation and grief he’d felt after Kevin had originally left the Nest, which had been buried deep, was all bubbling back up to the surface. Jean realized belatedly that he’d slipped into French, but he didn't switch back to English. Kevin could understand him and he hadn’t actually spoken his native language in a while. Jeremy was learning, but he still wasn’t fluent and had a while to go before he could have actual conversations.

“You just  _left_  me there.” Jean hated how ragged and draped in emotion the words came out. He didn’t want to bare his fucking soul to  _Kevin_ , but here he was. “You knew what he was like, and you knew what he would do, and you just—” He made a useless sort of cutting gesture with his hands. “I thought I would die down there, Kevin, and you didn’t even look back. You just fucking  _left_ , and you—”

Jean spun around on his heel, because he was  _not_  going to break down in front of Kevin. He’d done enough of that when they were both Ravens, he wasn’t about to do it again  _now_. He scrubbed his hands over his face and tangled his fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands in an effort to ground himself.

He took a deep breath, and then another, and then quite a few more after that, before he could face Kevin again. “I thought you were my friend. I thought you were the one person in that awful fucking place who looked at me and still saw a person. But you didn’t, you just—“ He dropped his hands to his side and balled them into fists. “I was just a  _thing_  you could forget about when it got inconvenient.”

Kevin honestly looked like someone had just decked him in the face. Jean tried to take satisfaction in that, but all he could really feel right now was a whole lot of  _terrible_. He hadn’t even realized how much pent up anger and sadness he’d been holding onto until now. He wanted to tell himself it didn’t matter what Kevin thought of him, that he had the Trojans now and they’d never looked at him and seen anything but an actual, honest-to-god human being, and after a year with them he thought he could finally see the same himself. But that year without Kevin in the Nest had been the worst of his life, which was honestly saying something.

“Jean—” Kevin started, but he cut himself off. “I had to leave,” he finally said, hollow and haunted, and also in French. “He broke my hand, I thought I would never play again. There was no way I could stay there any longer.”

"You are truly an idiot." Jean shook his head and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek before he could continue. “I’m not angry that you left,” he said. “If I had had a way out, I would have taken it as well. I’m angry because when you left you threw me under the fucking bus the didn’t think twice about it.”

Kevin was quiet for a long time after that, his face almost as pale as Jean’s, which was impressive considering Kevin’s skin was naturally several shades darker than his own. “You’re right,” Kevin finally said, which took Jean by surprise. Kevin was one of the most spiteful, stubborn people Jean had ever met. He didn’t think he’d ever heard him admit to being wrong or at fault. “I was being selfish and I shouldn’t have left you there like that.”

That hadn't been what Jean expected to hear. His thoughts derailed for a split second, but Jean got them back on track, if with a bit less venom and anger. “No,” he agreed. “If I had found a way out, I would have taken you with me,” he said.

“Really?” Kevin asked, raising his eyebrows at Jean.

“Yes, Kevin,” Jean ground out, although he didn’t admit that his reasoning for that was mostly selfish. Jean had no one outside of the Ravens, and leaving alone would’ve been impossible for him. But there was also their... friendship to consider. “I would have.”

Kevin folded his arms across his chest, his face a stony mask, and stayed that way for a while, staring at the sidewalk and trying to figure out what to say. When Kevin looked back up at him, his eyebrows were knitted together and his face was pinched and distraught. “I shouldn’t have left you there,” he repeated.

Jean sighed. “No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed, all the fight draining from his body. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, already extremely emotionally exhausted in a way he hadn’t felt in months. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore. “But to be fair… You did also save my life.”

"What?" Kevin frowned at him. “But, it was Renee—”

“Okay, yes,” Jean cut him off mid-sentence, too exhausted to deal with Kevin’s cluelessness. “Renee rescued me from the Nest. She got me out,” Jean allowed, “But you sent me to California, which…” He pursed his lips, trying to decide how much he wanted to admit to Kevin. It was a little hard to get the rest of his sentence out, but he managed eventually. “Which is where I found a home, and a family, and—” He stopped himself, not sure if he really wanted to say the word that was right there on the tip of his tongue. “— where I found love,” he said, looking away from Kevin. “Renee saved my life, but you gave me what I needed to really live instead of just… surviving. As much as I honestly hate to say this, and believe me, that is  _a lot_ , I have something to hold on to, something I  _will_  fight like hell to keep, and that is because of you.”

When Jean looked back up, Kevin was staring at him like he’d never seen him before.  “I’m glad to hear that,” Kevin finally told him, stilted and awkward. If there was one thing Kevin was worse at than smalltalk, it was genuine emotion. It wasn’t like Jean was any more comfortable with this situation, though.

Jean nodded awkwardly, not really sure what to do with his hands. He settled for awkwardly fidgeting with the opposite sleeve of his sweatshirt. 

“I like your new tattoo, by the way,” Kevin said, sounding unnervingly sincere and flicking his hand over his own left cheek.

Jean studied him, and finally nodded. “Back at you,” he said. “Now you’re permanently marked so everyone will know how much of a drama queen you are.” Jean knew he had no room to talk, but that was beside the point.

Kevin managed a huff of... Not quite laughter, but almost.

“So much for Riko’s perfect court,” Jean said.

“I think we both know that wasn’t really what those numbers were for,” Kevin said.

Jean stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave another nod, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. Kevin was right; the “prefect court” and the numbers that came with it were only a way to brand property, to show that someone belonged to Riko. “No, it wasn’t,” Jean agreed.

Silence descended on them after that, and they let it linger. Neither one of them were quite sure how to go one. Jean finally sat down on the curb and leaned back on his hands. Kevin sat beside him, leaving a few feet of space between them and pulling one of his knees up to his chest. Jean looked up at the sky and watched it turn from purple to navy to black, until the stars started coming out and street lamps come on.

Finally, Jean had to say something, because there was no way that was the end of this. “Do you think we were only ever friends in the first place because we were the only decent people in that entire godforsaken place?” He asked, throwing a glance over at Kevin.

Kevin returned his glance, shrugging meekly and resting his chin on his knee. “ _Were_  we decent, though?” He asked.

Jean frowned. Kevin probably had a point. It wasn’t like either of them had been particularly pleasant… back then. But in their defense, they had been dealing with some pretty severe abuse. “Compared to Riko and the rest of the Ravens, yes,” Jean finally said. “We were practically saints.”

“I guess,” Kevin agreed, and then he exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, Jean,” he said. “You might be right. But that was enough, down there.”

Jean nodded. Maybe they hadn’t really been friends, but they’d always had a bond which came from a perfect understanding of the horrors they saw on a daily basis. Kevin had always been there for Jean, which had probably been one of the only things which kept him alive, in the end. He’d patched Jean up and had even learned French against Riko's wishes so Jean wouldn’t lose his grip on his native language altogether. It had been a relationship built entirety out of necessity, but it had been  _enough_.

But that wasn’t what friendship looked like. Jean knew what real friendship looked like now. He had it with Jeremy, Laila, and Alvarez. He had it with Renee, and, hell, even Toby or Drew or Ellie or Kate. It was something Jean would do whatever it took to keep, something that filled his life with light everyday.

It wasn’t… Whatever sketchy ally-ship he and Kevin had.

“Yes,” Jean said quietly, “I’m just not sure if it is the type of friendship that can hold up out here in the light.” Jean didn’t think either of them stood any chance at recovery if they stayed friends. Having that constant reminder of what they went through would do them both far more harm than good.

Kevin hummed, something that might have been agreement. “Probably not,” he said, and if Jean didn’t know any better he’d think Kevin sounded almost sad.

Jean hunched forward over his knees, tilting his head sideways so he could see Kevin. Kevin was looking back at him, but he averted his eyes after a second. Jean let out a long, tired breath.

Jean had known, going into this little conversation, that it would be difficult. He knew it was going to be awkward and uncomfortable and if he didn’t think he really needed to have this talk with Kevin in order for his recovery to move forward, he would’ve just avoided it forever. He realized he hadn’t been prepared for just _how_ exhausting it was going to be. Already, his mental energy level had been completely drained. He felt like the personification of the little red ‘low battery’ symbol his cellphone often flashed at him.

He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, but this wasn’t exactly the type of conversation you could just drop and pick up again later. There was still something there between them that needed airing out.

You couldn’t just wrap up ten years of hell in ten minutes.

Jean dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and then dropped them back to his pocket of his sweatshirt. He could at least borrow a little strength from the fact he was wearing the lavender one Alvarez had given him for his birthday. He was surprised it had fit him, but just like Jeremy, Alvarez bought all her sweaters at least three sizes too big for reasons he couldn’t figure out.

“Kevin,” Jean finally said, but after that he didn’t know what to say. He searched through French and English looking for the right words, but the sentiment he wanted was just hard for him, regardless of the language it was in. When he finally selected the right words, he almost laughed at himself. He just never thought anything remotely like them would come out of his mouth. “I need to ask you something. A favor.”

“Alright,” Kevin said, dubiously.

Jean worked his jaw for a few seconds before he finally said, “One of these days, will mention to Neil that I’m sorry.” Jean should probably just talk to Neil himself, but just speaking with Kevin was taking all the energy he could muster. He couldn’t face Josten as well.

“For what?” Kevin asked, and Jean was almost relieved to hear a blunt, borderline rude edge was finding its way back into his voice.

“The Nest,” Jean replied, like it should’ve been obvious. “I didn’t exactly make things easier for him.”

Kevin frowned at him. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “You did what you had to. We both know if you’d actually tried to stop Riko it would have just made things worse for the both of you.”

Jean frowned, winkling his nose and staring at the ground. He knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Maybe.” He agree half-heartedly. Still, he’d honestly felt a little relieved that someone else had been there to take some of Riko’s abuse, and that didn’t make Jean feel very good at this point in his life. Actually giving a shit about someone but himself was something he’d learned since leaving the Nest, and half the time he honestly hated it.

“Besides,” Kevin continued, flipping his hand in the air dismissively. “He doesn’t think of it that way at all. He doesn’t hold anything that happened over Christmas against you.”

Jean just scoffed, disbelieving.

“No, really.” Kevin said. “He even went out of his way to help you when he came back after winter break. He told me to give Renee your phone number after you showed up at our UT game,” Kevin told him, which didn’t make  _any_  sense.

Jean frowned at him, but he’d always wondered how Renee got ahold of him. Frankly, he’d been suspicious of why she’d wanted to talk to him in the first place, but he’d been so desperate for something bright in his life he hadn’t questioned it too much.

“Why would he do that?” Jean practically whispered. Even if Neil didn't hate him after what went down in Evermore, he still couldn't see why Neil would want to help him. It was a little infuriating to think he had to add  _Neil Josten_  to the list of people he owed his life to.

“Like I said, he was trying to help you.” Kevin explained with a slight air of impatience. “And he thought it would help us to win finals if you weren’t on the Raven lineup,” he added. 

That, at least, made sense to Jean.  Jean huffed out the best laugh he could manage right now. “Well, I suppose that paid off for the both of us,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, and then silence fell again, or partial silence considering how obnoxiously loud southern insects were. But there was no talking, at least, for a decent few minutes.

Jean fidgeted with his hands, staring up at the stars. Finally, he had to say something. “Did you know the Foxes were betting on Renee and I being a couple?” He asked.

“Yes,” Kevin said. “I bet against it.”

“You could have easily settled this bet yourself,” Jean said, sending Kevin a quizzical look. Kevin was the first person Jean had ever confided in about his sexuality after coming to America.

Kevin shrugged. “That’s not my truth to tell,” he said. “Besides, I stand to make a lot of money by simply betting against it instead.”

Jean almost laughed at that. Like, an actual laugh. But he couldn't quite manage it, so instead he just shook his head. It was oddly soothing to see how Kevin had changed since leaving the Nest, to know that they were both moving on in their own ways. “I haven’t told anyone about you either.” Jean said, and then clarified, “that you’re bisexual.”

“I—“ Kevin started, and Jean thought he was actually about to try and deny it, but he cut himself off. Instead he just sighed, and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks,” he said.

Jean nodded, and the conversation died away again. In the Nest there hadn’t been much need for talking, and now Jean thought neither one of them was quite sure how to talk to the other for extended periods of time. But there was still one thing left to talk about, the proverbial elephant in the room. The dead, abusive, reject-gangster elephant.

Jean knew they talked about Riko for… a long time, but if anyone were to ask him what either of them said, he’d come up blank. He’d made enough progress in his year out of the Nest that just the mention of Riko’s name no longer gave send him spiraling into a panic attack, but it did leave an uncomfortable pressure in his chest and made his breathing and heart rate speed up to the point where he had to work to keep himself under control.

It was quite possibly the hardest conversation he’d ever had, and it left him feeling hollow and wrecked in a way he hadn’t felt since his first few weeks at USC. It was reopening an old wound, but it was reopening it to cut away an infection. This time, when it healed over, it would be healthy and barely even leave a scar.

When that was done, Jean didn’t have any words left, but neither did Kevin, and they walked back to Abby’s house in dead, awkward silence.

 

-

 

For the first time in his life, Jean let himself lose a little bit of self-control and got absolutely fucking shitfaced. That it was around the Foxes was regrettable, but after the talk he’d had with Kevin he couldn’t really find it in him to care. Unfortunately, several hours later when he was finally coming down, that meant he had pretty much a gaping hole in his memory where the party should’ve been. He’d just had to trust that he’d been safe with Jeremy and Renee around.

He thought he remembered some interaction with the Foxes. He was pretty sure most of it had gone well, but he also thought he remembered threatening to punch one of the freshmen in the face for making a passing comment about… _something_. Something stupid. Probably Raven-related. What he couldn’t remember was if he’d actually followed through on the threat. Both his hands felt fine, though, so it’d probably been an empty threat.

Around midnight, when the party had started petering out, Renee, as the only sober one left awake in the house, had driven the four Trojans back to their hotel. Jean wished he’d been been able to spend more (lucid) time with Renee that night, but she hugged him goodbye outside the hotel and told him she’d call him soon. Jeremy had collected their keys from an annoyed-looking Coach Rhemann, and then the four of them had split up and gone to their rooms for the night.

Jeremy got the door to their room unlocked and flipped on the light, which caused Jean to blink a few times. By now the alcohol had mostly passed through his system, so instead of feeling fuzzy and loopy he just felt a little queasy and unsteady on his feet. His entire body regretted how much he’d had to drink.

Jean scrunched up his nose and frowned. “Ugh,” he complained.

Jeremy gave him a worried look and shut the door behind them, offering Jean his hand, which Jean took and held onto for dear life. “You okay?” Jeremy asked.

“No,” Jean said plaintively, rubbing at his face with his free hand. “Why do people do this to themselves?”

Jeremy bit his bottom lip. “I dunno, my love,” he said. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Hopefully.”

Jean just nodded and let his eyes close for a second before he headed to one of the beds and sat down heavily. Jeremy came to stand in front of Jean, brushing his bangs off his forehead and bending down to lightly kiss his temple. “I’m gonna get you some water,” he said,

Jean nodded and watched Jeremy fumble around in the bathroom, grabbing a plastic cup from the counter and filling it at the sink. Jean collapsed backwards onto the bed, his legs hanging over the side. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to get his stomach to stop churning and his head to feel less fuzzy and gross.

He closed his eyes and took several steady, deep breaths. He employed some of the breathing techniques Jess had taught him in counseling. He wasn’t actually having a panic attack, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

“You still alive down there?” Jeremy asked. Jean opened his eyes and found Jeremy standing at the end of the bed with a full glass of water in hand.

“For now,” Jean said, which got a weak laugh out of Jeremy.

“Drink this,” Jeremy said, holding out the cup.

Jean was exhausted beyond exhausted, but he sat up and took the water, taking a few cautious sips before downing the whole thing in a couple swallows. Jeremy sat down next to him and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jean set the empty cup down on the table between the beds and looked over at Jeremy. “We talked about Riko,” he said, finally.

“Hm?” Jeremy said, knitting his brows together.

“Kevin and I,” Jean said. “Earlier this evening. We talked about Riko. And the Nest.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. I guess that explains all the drinking,” Jeremy said. “Um… How was it?”

Jean made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “Tiring,” he said.

“Understandable,” Jeremy said, nodding. “Are you guys… Okay?”

Jean frowned slightly. “We’re…” He trailed off, not sure how to answer that. “Yes. We are. I don’t think we’ll ever be friends again, but the air is cleared, at least.”

"Alright, good." Jeremy nodded. “Are  _you_  doing okay?” He asked.

“‘Okay’ is… probably an optimistic way of putting it,” Jean said. “Kevin is exhausting to be around.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said, sliding his hand up to the nape of Jean’s neck and combing his fingers through the short hair there. “You don’t have to talk about this right now. We can just go to sleep.”

Jean sighed. His eyes fluttered closed at the touch, which relaxed him more than he cared to admit. He still felt like hell, but less so, with Jeremy beside him. “Thank you,” he said.

“Oh, don’t thank me,” Jeremy said. “I mean, it’s late anyway, and—“

“No,” Jean said. “That’s not what I meant.” He took Jeremy’s hand in his and and rested Jeremy’s palm flat against his chest where he knew his heart was still somehow beating. It was proof that somehow he was still alive even after all of Riko’s and his own attempts to change that. “I meant thank you for this.”

A confused crease appeared between Jeremy’s eyebrow, so Jean elaborated.

“I never expected to have  _any_  kind of life outside of the Ravens,” Jean said, meeting Jeremy’s eyes. It wasn’t like he’d had an actual life  _with_  the Ravens, either, but that went without saying. “But you and your ridiculous fucking team somehow gave me a life that I am constantly amazed by.”

“Jean,” Jeremy said, but he trailed off after that. “Are you too drunk for me to kiss you?” He asked.

Jean thought about that, but shook his head. He really didn’t feel drunk anymore. The closest descriptor to how he felt at the moment was probably hungover, but he had been under the impression that that was supposed to happen the morning after. He leaned in to meet Jeremy half way, and Jeremy didn’t move his hand from Jean’s chest.

“Also,” Jeremy said after he’d pulled away. “I thought we settled this  _months_  ago, Jean.  _Our_  team.  _Our_  ridiculous fucking team did that.”

Jean closed his eyes and let out a gentle laugh. “Of course, Captain Sunshine, of course. My mistake, slip of the tongue.”

Jeremy laughed, too, flopping down on the bed. Jean laid down beside him. “Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” Jeremy said.

“It’s come up once or twice,” Jean answered, trying to pretend Jeremy didn’t kick his pulse into overdrive every time he said things like that.

Jeremy grinned warmly. “Well, once or twice isn’t enough, because I love you, like, a whole lot.”

“I love you too, Jeremy,” Jean said, and, god, he was way too exhausted to handle what he was feeling right now. He had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath to stop it from overwhelming him. “You make me happy, and that scares me more than you can know,” Jean admitted, “because I keep waiting for something to go wrong and for all of this to be taken away.”

“Jean, hey,” Jeremy said, “look at me.”

Jean opened his eyes, meeting Jeremy’s gaze and holding it.

“Remember back in January?" Jeremy asked. "That one night like right after we'd started dating. We were sitting in my car, after practice? Remember how we promised we wouldn't be scared of each other?"

Jean  _did_  remember that. How could he forget?

“You need to let yourself enjoy things,” Jeremy continued. "You can keep this.  I’m not gonna let anyone or anything hurt you anymore, okay?"

Jean raised his eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“Nope,” Jeremy replied, matter-of-factly. “I decided that, like, the first day you got to LA, pretty much as soon as I saw you in the airport.”

Jean thought about that for a stretch, and when he finally managed a response, his voice was soft and quiet. “You have your work cut out for you, Knox,” he said, smiling softly. He wasn’t sure if it was after-affects of the alcohol lowering his inhibitions, or the more probable answer that Jeremy just made him feel safe, that caused him to open up like this. “I have a lot of hurt in my life.”

Just a few months ago the idea of displaying any kind of vulnerability made him feel sick to his stomach with self-hatred and dread. But things were different now. Jeremy knew him better than anyone else had in life, knew all his weaknesses and never even dreamed of exploiting them. In fact, he had a way of making Jean feel like those weaknesses weren’t even weaknesses at all.

“Yeah, well,” Jeremy said, “I'm a hard worker. And I’m stubborn as hell, and I love you, so. Yeah, I stand by it.”

Jean stifled a yawn in his palm before he said, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I hope you do,” Jeremy told him, almost challengingly.

Jean yawned again, and finally decided to give up on staying up any longer. He sat up and pulled the covers back on the bed. He didn’t have anything to change into, since he hadn’t bothered to grab his bag from where it was stashed with the rest of the team’s gear after getting back from the party. But that was probably fine. Jean wasn’t sure how well he’d fare on his feet right now.

Jean propped himself up with his elbows on a pillow and looked Jeremy. “Why are you so sober? The last time we went to a party I practically had to carry you home.”

“‘Cause I know you,” Jeremy said, shrugging, and climbing up next to him in the bed. “And I figured you wouldn’t want  _both_  of us to be off our asses.”

He was right, but still Jean said, “You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Jean,” Jeremy said, raising both his brows in an expression that said he was unimpressed. “Let me do nice things for you, alright? It makes me happy.”

Jean studied Jeremy for a moment, frowning. “As if I needed another reminder you’re too good for me,” Jean complained, falling back onto the pillow and throwing his arm over his eyes, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Don’t say things like that,” Jeremy insisted, taking Jean’s hand and pulling his arm away from his face so he could see Jeremy again.

Jean sighed, unable to look away from Jeremy now that he’d caught his eyes again. “I am a mess, Jeremy.”

“Big deal,” Jeremy said. “So am I. Everyone’s a little messy.”

Jean sent Jeremy an incredulous look. “I am a  _lot_  messy.”

“Okay, again:  _big deal_ ,” Jeremy said, raising his eyebrows and continuing. “I promise, I can handle it.”

Jean probably would’ve just jumped Jeremy’s bones right then had he not been on the verge of passing out. Instead he just let out a long breath and pulled Jeremy close, hiding his face in the crook of Jeremy’s neck. “If you insist,” he said. He’d never had anyone... in his corner like this before. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Jeremy laughed quietly, pulling the blankets over the both of them. “Alright,” he said, pulling back and pressing a kiss to Jean’s cheek before he fell back on the other side of the pillow. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight,” Jean returned, shutting his eyes. Before he drifted off, he remembered hoping he could fall asleep to that exact sight every single damned day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anywhomst sorry for all the negative comments abt the foxes. while i love them with my entire heart, let's be real here, jean moreau most definitely Does Not


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so did y'all see nora's post??? jean's number with the trojans has is 29!!!!!! 
> 
> on one hand i'm weeping actual real tears, but on the other hand the fact that this fic is now inaccurate is slowly eating me alive. 
> 
> one day i'll go back and edit it so his number in this fic is 29 instead of 9, but for now y'all gotta live w/ it cuz i'm back in school and i ain't got the time to go back thru all 140+k words of this hgjdfhgkdfhgjd 
> 
> bye

The next week passed faster than Jean would’ve liked, the days all blurring together and rushing by. And then, before he knew it, it was Thursday, the day before their final championship match against Penn State. Practices had been running long all week, the entire team pushing themselves as far as they could go in preparation for their last game of the season.

It was the first time the Ravens wouldn’t be included in a championship finals game, so everyone one the team was buzzing out of their skin with excitement. It was almost enough to infect Jean. He was trying to be excited about Exy for his team’s sake, but the best he could do was be thankful that it was going to keep him alive to be around _their_ excitement.

On Thursday, practice ran more than an hour later than usual, and it was nearly seven o’clock when the team finally left the stadium. Neither Jean nor Jeremy had the energy to cook anything, so they stopped off to get some takeout on the way back to the dorm. Jeremy was quiet the whole way home, and it wasn’t hard for Jean to discern why. He knew how important tomorrow’s game was to Jeremy.

Jean still didn’t quite know what to do in situations like this, so he just slipped his hand into Jeremy’s on the way up to the dorm and didn’t let go until they got inside. It helped that neither one of them had any homework that needed their immediate attention, so they could just spend the evening relaxing. Or, relaxing as much as they could when Jeremy was a big ball of stress and Jean was, well, _Jean_.

Jean figured they were in for a long night.

In an attempt to destress, Jeremy grabbed his laptop and put in a DVD, sitting on his bed to watch. Jean joined him a few minutes in, scooting up on the bed and leaving a few inches between him and Jeremy. He figured he’d leave it up to Jeremy to decide if he wanted to close the distance. He did, almost right away, sliding over so he could fit himself against Jean’s side. He set his laptop down so it was resting between them, half on his own leg, half on Jean’s.

The movie was one Jean had seen before. By now he’d seen most of the movies Jeremy owned, since the entire team seemed to be obsessed with exposing him to media he’d missed in the Nest. It wasn’t one of his favorites, but he liked it enough that it kept his attention. (Although most of his attention was, admittedly, focused on the weight of Jeremy’s head on his shoulder.) 

When the movie ended, Jeremy shut his laptop and stretched out. He leaned back against the wall and chanced a look over at Jean.  “Hey,” he said, “Can I ask you something?”

Jean looked over at him, searching Jeremy’s face. “Of course,” he answered.

Jeremy drummed his fingers restlessly against his knee, like he was trying to decide where to start. “Do you ever think that we kind of rushed into this?”

Jean arched one of his eyebrows, utterly confused. “What do you mean?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I just mean—“ He frowned. “I guess I’m just a little worried that, like… Okay. You _just_ got out of the Nest. Like, you’d only been here for a few months when we started dating, and…”  Jeremy pulled his legs up close to him and tapped his fingers against his knee. “Look, ugh, okay, I don’t want to do anything that’s going to fuck up your recovery. Just… Are you sure this is the best thing for you?”

It took Jean a minute to register the meaning behind Jeremy’s words, what he meant when he said 'this.' But it clicked after a minute, and when it did he squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head a small, jerky shake. He didn’t like how tense his voice came out when he asked, “Why are you saying this?”

Jeremy gave a weak shrug. “I just don’t want you to feel trapped or anything, I guess.”

“Jeremy—” Jean started, but he didn’t exactly have a follow up to that. He was still trying to process the situation and figure out how they went from cuddling and watching movies to… whatever this was. “If you want to end this, you have to do it yourself, because I’m not going to do your dirty work for you.” Jean remembered when Jeremy had said almost those same exact words to _him_ all those weeks ago.

Jeremy looked down at his hands and sighed. “You know that’s not what I want. I just… I want what’s best for you,” he repeated.

Again, Jean found himself at a loss for words. His heart had sped up with a burgeoning anxiety, so he took a deep, steadying breath before he tried to form any kind of response. “I can’t just… wait around until I’m better to live my life. If I did that, if I just put my life on hold, I will never actually _get better_.”

“I mean, that’s fair,” Jeremy conceded, but he still had a crease between his brow. “But, like, we got pretty serious _pretty_ quick.”

“So?” Jean asked. “Why is that a bad thing?”

Jeremy smiled, but it was insincere and short-lived. It didn’t look right on his face. “I guess it’s not, but…”

“Jeremy, just, stop,” Jean cut him off, putting his hand up between them. “I don’t want this to end, and you’re not going to say anything to change my mind. I know what I want, alright?”

Jeremy’s smile returned, and this time it was a bit more genuine. “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jean said, his anxiety easing a little as he felt this conversation coming to a close. “And if you truly want what’s best for me, I need you to trust _me_ to know what that is.”

Jeremy nodded. “And I do, of course I do,” Jeremy said, laying his hand on Jean’s arm and squeezing lightly. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I panicked a little bit. You can understand that, right?”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” Jean muttered. He knew panic better than he knew himself. And he’d done something similar when Jeremy first told him he loved him. “But I’m my own person and I can make my own choices. That is kind of important to me.”

“I know that,” Jeremy assured him, and Jean believed him. “You know I know that.”

Jean nodded. He did know that. Not only had Jeremy never looked at Jean and seen anything less than a person, he’d completely respected his autonomy and his boundaries from the moment he picked him up from LAX last summer. That might have seemed like a low bar to some people, but Jean had never been granted that before and it meantmore to him than he could properly explain.

“Can we agree not to do this anymore?” Jean asked, and then clarified, “try to push each other away like this?”

Jeremy smiled again, this one finally real. “Deal,” Jeremy said. 

Jean couldn’t manage to return the smile, but he did feel something in his chest ease. He let out a breath and leaned his forehead on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy, in turn, looped his arms around Jean and pulled him close. 

 

-

 

The final championship game between Penn State and USC was a home game. Jean was grateful for that; the night was bound to be hectic enough, so at least sticking around their own court was bound to make things marginally easier. The team had all gathered at the stadium with an hour to spare before first serve, by which time Jean had gotten a text from Kevin and a phone call from Renee, both wishing the Trojans good luck in tonight's game. Jean actually replied to Kevin this time. Admittedly he felt a little guilty about some of the things he’d said in South Carolina. Even though he felt he’d needed to say it, it had obviously stung and no matter how he felt about Kevin he didn’t want to make his recovery harder than it needed to be. 

But Jean definitely didn’t have the time to dwell on Kevin or the Nest or any of that right now. He had a whole lifetime to make things right, so he fired off a text to Kevin and shoved him from his mind, returning his attention to his team.

Jean tried to remain calm, but it was easier said than done when half the team looked about three seconds away from breaking down in hysterics. Even Jeremy was a mess, fidgeting and pacing and just generally unable to sit still. Jean hadn’t even seen Alvarez, though Laila had told him she was there.  Jean hoped they would pull themselves together before the game began.

“Are you doing okay?” Jean finally asked Jeremy, standing front of him where Jeremy was leaning against the wall. “You look like you might pass out.”

“Y’know, I actually might,” Jeremy said, looking at Jean with wide eyes.  Jean couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. 

“I’ll be sure to catch you if you do faint,” he finally said.

Jeremy laughed, a soft but genuine sound. Jean loved Jeremy’s laugh, and he loved being the reason Jeremy laughed even more. He just wished he was better at it. Jean wasn’t exactly the best at inspiring laughter, but every time he managed it it made his heart soar. 

“My hero,” Jeremy grinned up at Jean. Jean smiled back at him.  “Okay, no, for real though,” Jeremy said, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling. “This is my last game with the team, and we actually have a chance to _win_ championships, so you’re not allowed to make fun of me if I, like, puke or cry or something.”

Again, Jean had a hard time discerning if Jeremy was being serious or not, so he just nodded and said, “I won’t.”

Jeremy smiled at him, but Jean could still detect a slight twitch of nerves behind the expression. “I love you,” Jeremy finally said.

Jean squeezed Jeremy’s hand. “I love you, too,” he replied.

The next hour passed in a blur, and what felt like only a couple minutes later the warning buzzer was sounding and the game was about to start. The team seemed to be somewhat lacking their characteristic rowdy cheer when they filed out towards the court. Alvarez looked grim as she stepped in line with the rest of the team, but she looked a little better after Laila squeezed her hand and kissed her on the cheek. Jeremy just genuinely had too much fun playing Exy to hold onto his pre-game nerves, but even his expression was more serious than usual. This was an unprecedented game for the Trojans, so Jean supposed he understood.

After warming up, Jeremy won the Trojans first serve, and the teams were called onto the court and headed to their starting positions. Jean glanced over at Alvarez and nodded, and was relieved when he got a nod back. As he shifted into a ready position, Jean realized he was oddly relaxed. No, relaxed was the wrong word. He felt… _confident_. Objectively, he’d always known he was good at Exy and had confidence in that, but… this was different. He couldn’t quite explain it, only that he thought this was a warmer feeling. 

It was a _nice_ feeling.

The buzzer sounded and pulled Jean from his introspection, and the game began. The nice part about Exy was that at this point it came so naturally to him he could just lose himself in the game. Sometimes that served as a coping mechanism, and other times it did more harm than good. But tonight he was able to actually get close to enjoying himself on the court. He hadn’t really had much fervor for Exy after Riko, but the Trojans were starting to help him remember why he'd loved this game so much as a child.

Still, even though Exy came easy, Jean gave the game everything he had. It was the least he could do for this team after they’d pretty much saved his life this year. By the time half-time rolled around, Jean was more exhausted than Exy had made him feel all year. He was glad he’d be sitting out for the first twenty minutes of the second half. He pulled his helmet off and wiped his forearm across his face, letting out an exhausted sigh. The Trojans were up by three points, so Jean didn’t mind being a little worn out.

He spent half time deep in discussion with Alvarez and the other backliners, talking strategy and plays for about the millionth time. They could all probably recite this entire conversation in their sleep, but it still made everyone feel better to go over it one more time. In what felt like less than a heartbeat the warning bell went off and the team had to head back out. Jean spent his time off the court watching the game from the benches in a dead silence. Laila was perched beside him, but she didn’t have much to say either. He liked that about Laila, neither of them were as chatty as their respective significant others, but their silences were always comfortable and companionable. She was supposed to head back on the court before Jean was, since she was cycling in an out for other goalies, and Jean quickly wished her luck when she was finally called off the bench. Laila flashed him a thumbs-up and headed for the door.

Jean’s knee bounced nervously until he was finally allowed to get back on the court.

His striker mark, Johansen, was quick and nimble, but Jean was determined to keep her away from the goal. And she wasn’t as quick as Josten or as tricky as Kevin, so Jean really had no problem blocking her shots. Still, she put up a hell of a fight, and Jean and Alvarez couldn’t keep her and her partner back forever. 

If Jean wasn’t so focused on defending Laila and her goal, he would’ve taken a moment to marvel in that fact that even when Penn’s strikers did get around him to take a shot, he didn’t beat himself up over it. With the Ravens, letting his mark past him in a  _championship_ game was one of the worst offenses you could commit, and he would’ve been beaten pretty severely for it. The fact that every point Penn earned didn’t send Jean’s heart up into his throat was a testament to how far he’d come this year. But for now he had a game to win, so he could revel in his own recovery later.

Johansen and her partner were good, but in the end, Jean and Alvarez were better. Jean could swear he felt his heart leap into his throat when the final buzzer rang out overhead and signaled the end of the game. Despite knowing what the score was, he still wheeled around so he could get a look at the scoreboard just to double check. He felt something bright and alive bubble up inside him. Sure enough, the board read 14 to 11, with the Trojans leading. It wasn’t the first championship game he'd won, but it was the first time he gave even half of a damn about it.

Even though his fingers were a little shaky and sore, especially around all the olds breaks, he managed to get his helmet unbuckled. He’d just pulled it off his head and turned to look for Jeremy when the man himself was right there. 

Jeremy leapt and practically threw himself into Jean’s arms. Jean hadn’t been expecting it, and he stumbled back a few paces, but he managed to remain upright even under Jeremy’s extra weight. Although, he did drop his racquet and his helmet noisily on the court. Jeremy had his arms wrapped tightly around Jean’s shoulders and his legs locked around his waist, and Jean twined his own arms around Jeremy.  Jean was too surprised and too happy to worry about what kind of display they must be making. The Trojans were always a physically affectionate bunch, after all, and the rest of the team was making similar spectacles as they lost their collective shit around him. 

Jean was just glad Jeremy still had his helmet on, because otherwise he probably would’ve kissed him senseless right there and not given a damn about how many cameras were watching.  It was about then Jean realized he was actually smiling. “Hey,” Jean said, and Jeremy pulled his face away from Jean’s shoulder so he could look him in the eye. Jean was distracted for a split second by the way Jeremy’s eyes lit up and his entire face was flushed, but he regained his composure quick enough. “I told you.”

Jeremy looked puzzled for a moment, but then a dazzling grin split his face, and he laughed that ridiculously gorgeous laugh of his. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Jeremy said breathlessly.

Jean was saved from having to stumble through any kind of response to that when the rest of the team essentially mobbed their captain. Jean released Jeremy and he finally dropped back to the ground, turning to crush Alvarez in a hug, which was quickly joined by Ryan and Jacob. Jean had genuinely never seen a team so ecstatic, and that was saying something considering their collective sunshine and energy level was pretty much constantly through the roof. It was contagious, and by now he was almost positive he was grinning right along with them. Jean quickly bent down to grab his stick and helmet again before he forgot about them entirely.

Laila appeared in front of him, drawing his attention. Her smile was smaller than the rest of the team’s, but it was fierce and proud. She looked exhausted, and few coils of her hair, which had fallen loose from her ponytail, were stuck to her forehead with sweat. But she looked so  _alive_. “This is the part where you celebrate,” she informed Jean.

“I am celebrating,” Jean said. He gestured to his own face, not caring to hide his undoubtedly dopey grin.

Laila studied him for a second before she let out a quiet but genuine laugh. “We need to teach you how to celebrate right,” she declared.

“Okay,” Jean, responded, shrugging.

Laila looked a little surprised by his response, but she took it in stride and pulled him down into a hug. It was a little awkward, Laila being close to a foot shorter than him, but they managed. Laila scrubbed her gloved hand through Jean’s hair when she pulled away before she looped her arm through his and dragged him over to the rest of the team. Looking around at all of them, Jean felt an overwhelming kind of happiness wash over him, and although there was still some (too much) fear lurking under the surface that it couldn’t last, he was able to squash those fears for now. He was learning to let himself enjoy things and not just drive himself crazy waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was tough, but he was making progress.

Jean couldn’t believe he’d already made it through an entire year with the Trojans, and so far nothing had come along to ruin it. The Exy season had officially come to a close with the team’s ( _his team’s_ ) victory, and in two weeks the school year would end. His heart did a frantic little skip in his chest at thought. He knew next year would be difficult without Jeremy around, and he really wasn’t looking forward to not seeing his boyfriend everyday. But he would make it through, at least he knew that much. He might have to lean on Laila and Alvarez a bit more than he wanted to, but they had assured him they would be there for him with whatever he needed. Jean would just have to figure out a way to be there for _them_ in return.

But, for now, Jean wouldn’t worry too much about next year. Back in the Nest, he’d never seen himself making it further than graduation. He’d never even _wanted_ to. But that was different now. He may still have been struggling with a lot, but he had more warmth and kindness in his life now than he’d ever known before, and that would keep him going, would make him _want_ to keep going, and that was enough.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER HOLY MCFUCKIN SHIT thats all there is
> 
> ik these last two chapters have been short but /shrug

It was coming up on the midway point of May, which meant Jean had now been in California for over a year. He couldn’t remember the exact date he’d arrived, but he knew it was directly after Riko’s death, and Kevin had called him on the anniversary of that day a couple weeks ago. It had started out stilted and awkward, but somehow they’d managed to talk for over an hour until Kevin had to hang up when his phone's battery ran too low. Even though Jean and Kevin hadn’t parted on the best terms, they’d endured the hellish nightmare of the Nest together and Jean figured that occasionally they would need to be there for each other. No matter how much Jean wished it wasn’t true, Kevin was important to him. That had been a rough day, for both himself and Kevin, but Jean had gotten through it.

A few days later, on the 9th, USC’s school year had ended, and after that Jean had gone with Jeremy and spent a week with his family while Jeremy looked for apartments down in San Diego. Jeremy had taken a while to settle on which team he wanted to sign with. He hadn’t actually decided until a couple days before he graduated. Jean had been more excited than he cared to admit when he found out Jeremy would be staying so close to him. The drive between the two cities was only a couple hours long. Longer with traffic, but still within driving distance. Jean had felt a little pool of guilt when Jeremy first made his choice, but Jeremy had assured him the proximity played only a small role in his decision.

So, a week or so after Jeremy graduated, he and Jean had packed up and headed down to San Diego, and had been staying there in Jeremy’s new apartment ever since. Alvarez would be picking Jean up when it was time to move back into the dorms, but that was still two weeks away. Until then, it was just Jean and Jeremy in a new city.

On this particular day, Jean had woken up alone. It wasn’t a _bad_ day, per se, but Jean had known as soon as he’d woken that it had the potential to _turn_ bad if he didn’t take steps against that. Just the fact that he’d slept through Jeremy getting up and leaving the apartment proved that. He was normally a light sleeper, and if he’d slept through that kind of movement he knew his exhaustion was the type only anxiety and depression could fabricate. Luckily for him, though, at this point Jean had the tools to keep things from going bad. He knew what to do to ensure his day didn’t spiral.

It was almost 11:00 when Jean woke up, but he was learning to cut himself some slack so he just headed out to the living room.He found a note from Jeremy on the magnetic dry erase board on the fridge that he’d kept with him from the dorms that told Jean where he was, so Jean was able to just sit and try to keep his head on straight. Jean made himself comfortable on the couch with a book, the puffy white comforter from the bed draped around his shoulders and his book resting open on his knees. Even though it was already getting hot outside, the air-conditioned apartment was cool enough that Jean was getting goosebumps. There was a large sliding glass door in the living room which lead out to a balcony, so there was plenty of warm, natural light to ease a bit of Jean's anxiety.

Jean was still getting used to the whole reading for pleasure thing, but he thought he liked it. Jeremy had bought him the French translation of one of his own favorite books for Christmas, and ever since then Jean had been reading more and more. He hadn’t had much time for it back at USC, but now that it was break, he had plenty of spare time. It still made him a little uneasy to have so much leisure time on his hands; a little part of him still thought he should be focusing any and all free time on Exy.

But, he was happy to say, that part of him was shrinking everyday. Today, in fact, he was able to ignore it completely and just sit on the couch and read in peace.

Jean wasn’t entirely sure how much time passed. There was no clock in the living room yet, and his phone was still sitting on it’s charger in the bedroom. But, he made it through nearly two chapters by the time he heard keys in the lock. Jean’s attention automatically snapped up at the sound, and when he turned back to his book he’d lost his place. But that didn’t really matter, because a moment later Jeremy was home, and he kind of snagged all of Jean’s attention anyway.

Jeremy toed his shoes off and left them by the front door, smiling warmly. “Hey,” he said to Jean. “Good morning.”

Jean felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in the beginnings of a smile. “Hello,” he replied, setting his book down on the arm of the couch, knowing there was no way he could focus on it now.

Jeremy had a paper bag in his arms, and he headed into the kitchen. Jean got up off the couch and followed him in there, coming to stand behind Jeremy where he was unloading a couple things into the fridge and cabinets.

“How was your morning?” Jeremy asked, casting a glance back at Jean.

Jean wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s waist and buried his face in his neck, mumbling, “It was fine,” against Jeremy’s skin. He pressed the lightest kiss he could manage against Jeremy’s neck and appreciated the way Jeremy shivered a little. “Better now that you’re here.”

Jeremy abandoned his groceries and turned around to face Jean, his smile small and soft, but dazzling enough to rival the sun. “Yeah?” He said, sliding his hands up to wrap around the back of Jean’s neck.

Jean nodded, leaning forward so he could rest his forehead against Jeremy’s. “Yeah,” he confirmed. He didn’t know when he’d turned into such a sap. Maybe he was naturally inclined to it, but he was pretty sure he’d only learned it since leaving the Nest. It was most likely that Jeremy just brought it out in him. He thought it was a good marker of his progress that he actually liked this new person he was turning into. He liked knowing that after everything he’d gone through, there was still tenderness and love somewhere inside of him.

Jeremy leaned back against the counter so he could look up at Jean, that warm little smile still firmly in place. “You know what?” Jeremy asked, and then answered himself. “Same here.”

Jean was pretty sure he was smiling now, too. It was faint, but it was real. He could still feel the darkness lingering around the edges of his mind, but now it was more like a faint shadow, chased off by the light Jeremy always filled his life with. He leaned in to give Jeremy a kiss, simply because he could, and he wanted to, and for some inexplicable reason Jeremy wanted him, too.

“And it’s even better now,” Jeremy murmured after they’d broken apart, his eyes still closed.

Just for that, Jean pressed another quick kiss to Jeremy’s forehead before he fully extricated himself from Jeremy’s space. He was so unbelievably smitten it was getting ridiculous.

Jeremy was beaming up at him when he pulled back, and Jean couldn’t help but smile back. “Your ice cream is going to melt,” he commented, flicking his hand at the counter.

“My— Oh, shit, right,” Jeremy said, wheeling back around to finish putting away his groceries. He stuffed the tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer first. Jean let out a little huff of laughter and leaned over to plant one last kiss to Jeremy’s cheek. He took more than a bit of pride in the way Jeremy fumbled with the package of pasta he’d been about to put in the cupboard at the contact, before he returned to the living room and his place on the couch. 

Jean sat back down, crossing his legs, and picking his book back up. He didn’t think he’d get much more reading done now that Jeremy was home, so he stuck a bookmark between the pages and shut it for now. He set it aside on the coffee table right as Jeremy joined him, taking the cushion beside him on the couch.

“It’s chilly in here,” Jeremy said, and even though the blanket Jean had brought out was sitting between them on the couch Jeremy turned to Jean and grinned. “Keep me warm?”

Jean snorted, but he didn’t have a problem cozying up with Jeremy. “Come here, you ridiculous man,” Jean said.

Jeremy beamed at him and wrapped his arms around Jean’s waist, so Jean put his own arms around Jeremy’s shoulders. “Where would I be without you?” Jeremy asked, tilting his head up to meet Jean’s eyes, still grinning.

Jean ignored the little voice in his head saying _better off_. He still believed that, on a certain level, but just as Jeremy trusted Jean to know what was best for him, Jean in turn had to trust Jeremy to know what was best for himself. And if Jeremy thought Jean was good for him, Jean was not going to argue. Instead he just let out a huff of laughter and said, “I suppose you’ll never know.”

“Lucky me,” Jeremy said.

“Lucky _me_ ,” Jean corrected him.

“Lucky _us_ ,” Jeremy compromised, resting his head on Jean’s shoulder.

Jean hid his face in Jeremy’s hair, shutting his eyes tight and sucking in a deep breath. He felt lucky. Really, he felt beyond lucky. If anyone had told him, at this point last year, that his life would ever look like this, he would’ve laughed and called them crazy. But here he was, coming out of what was probably the best year of his life. It had been hard. In fact, it had _also_ been one of the _hardest_ years he’d had in his life, but it had been so worth it. What he had now was beyond anything he ever could’ve hoped for.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t still working hard to move forward. Most days he still didn’t think himself deserving of the type of love he found himself surrounded by these days, but he was working on that. He still had a long way to go, he knew that. You didn’t recover from the type of nightmarish trauma Jean had suffered in a year. He wasn’t ‘okay’ by a long shot, and he knew he had miles to go before he reached anything that even looked like like being okay. But compared to where he’d been in past years, he’d come a long way. He could see the possibility that one day, he _could_ be okay. He was on his way there, and he could see it on the horizon, even if t was still a long way off. The fact that he could see his life extending long enough to one day reach okay was enough of a sign of growth on it’s own.

He was making _progress_ , and that was more than he ever thought he’d be able to say.

He pulled back out of Jeremy’s space, sitting sideways on the couch and leaning his head against the back cushions. He needed a moment just to take everything in, to prove that this was all really real. Jeremy rested his elbow on the back cushion, turning sideways himself and propping his face in his hand.

“Is everything okay?” Jeremy asked, his brows furrowing ever so slightly.

A loose curl had flopped forward, and it had been long enough since Jeremy had had a haircut that it almost fell into his eyes. Jean reached out and brushed it aside, letting his finger trail lightly down Jeremy’s chin until he finally let his hand fall back into his lap. Jeremy caught it before it could fall completely and held Jean’s hand loosely between both of his own, tracing a thumb over Jean’s knuckles.

Jean had arrived in California a year ago broken beyond repair, and yet somehow the Trojans had managed to put him back together anyway. He’d come so close to giving up so many times in the past, but now he was infinitely grateful that he hadn’t. He was so glad he’d stayed alive, that he’d just kept surviving until he found something to live for and learned how to fight for himself again, because he wouldn’t trade the life he had now for _anything_.

“Yes,” Jean answered softly. “Everything’s fine.” For now, at least, he genuinely meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!!!!! WOW!!!!! u guys!!!!!!!!
> 
> it's done??? it's done!!!!!!! wow. i'm genuinely uhhhh in shock right now. 
> 
> i started writing this fic back in d e c e m b e r so this fic has taken up like. ten months of my life. i'm genuinely not sure what to do w/ myself not that it's done ??? jinkies!
> 
> um ok before i start rambling incoherently here's some last minute notes about this story:
> 
> \- disclaimer: i don't speak a word of a french. (actually that's not true. i can say "i have and eiffel tower in my pants" but i couldn't find a way to work that into the story. believe me i tried) so any french in this fic came from google translate. so ya if there's any errors (which i'm almost positive there are YIKES) i'm sorry. if u speak french im Double Sorry for butchering ur language im just an american who took six years of spanish in school kjfhgdjfhg
> 
> \- unfortunately i can't use that excuse for any mistakes in english. i'm just a sloppy writer and a sloppier editor. i probably shouldve got a beta but like no one is allowed to read my unedited writing so that idea never went anywhere. kudos to Everyone who read this story even w the numerous grammar/spelling mistakes. 
> 
> \- Everyone's Fucking Gay, fight me,
> 
> \- I Did My Best. thank u
> 
> um yeah okay. lastly, just, thank u all to everyone who took a chance on this fic!!!! this was my first time writing fanfiction, and my first time writing anything longer than like. 1k words. i never knew i could writing this much jfjfghjgfhjgf. thanks to everyone who commented, everyone who left kudos, and just everyone who read this. y'all r mvps and i love u.
> 
> feel free to come check out my tumblr and talk to me !!! i'm over [@trojean](http://trojean.tumblr.com/) (and i also have a [writing tag](http://trojean.tumblr.com/tagged/prem-writes) if u wanna read more of what i've written. there's a lotta fluff in there :3c) or u can check out my tfc sideblog, [@muldanithea](http://muldanithea.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks again y'all!!!!!


End file.
